


Late December With My Heart In My Chest

by LavenderWater



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Evakteket Challenge, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Rimming, Snowball Fight, Snowed In, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 19:23:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13083696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LavenderWater/pseuds/LavenderWater
Summary: In order to stop his mother's fussing since he left for college, Even tells her he's dating his roomate, Isak. They pretend to be a couple over the holiday weekend to convince his family.





	Late December With My Heart In My Chest

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Evakteket Christmas Challenge for the prompt fake dating for the holidays, snowed in, and gingerbread.  
> This is my first fic, which ended up much longer than I had originally planned and possibly contains a piece of my soul now. Title from Roman Holiday by Halsey. I hope you enjoy. Happy Holidays!

Even’s sitting on his bed staring at the wall, leg shaking with nerves as he waits for his roommate to return from his last exam before Christmas break. Normally this situation wouldn’t be pushing him to the brink of an anxiety attack. Normally he would be setting up a movie on his laptop or making cheese toasties in their little kitchenette that was really only made to fit one person but usually squeezes in two, or at least it does in their dorm. Today is different, though. Today he did something so stupid that if the university admissions board were to find out about it they would wonder why they even accepted someone as ridiculous as him to go to their school. 

The sound of a key jerking violently in the door is what breaks Even out of his trance, and he looks up to find a flustered and red-cheeked Isak shutting the door as though it had personally offended him. 

“You know,” Isak begins, flinging his backpack on the floor and removing his jacket and beanie, completely oblivious to Even’s building existential crisis, “when I left Nissen for a place of higher learning I figured I would be around people who would at least be smart enough to know what a bra was, but clearly that was a wasted dream.” Isak falls onto his bed and buries his face in the blue stripped duvet, muffling his groan. “I mean seriously, you’re a professor for God’s sake. The least she can do is cover up so I don’t have to take my final with the fear that one of those things is gonna pop out at me.”

Even gets up and moves across the little space, crawling onto the bed. He maneuvers around until his back is leaning against the wall, legs out in front of him, and pulls Isak until he rolls over with his head in Even’s lap. Isak glares up at the ceiling until Even begins slowly running his fingers through his golden curls. He slowly starts to relax but there’s still a bitterness echoing behind his eyes. It’s different from the softer Isak that Even is used to, and it makes an ache form in his chest demanding him to find a way to bring his Isak back to him. 

“I’m sure you did fine,” Even murmurs, never ceasing in his ministrations. “You’re so smart, Issy."

Isak snorts. “Yeah, well smart can only get you so far when half the material on the exam wasn’t even on the study guide. Ugh, two weeks of my life completely wasted studying for that fucking thing.”

It was true, for the last two weeks Isak had been studying nonstop. Every day after classes he would plant himself at the little desk they shared in the corner of the dorm and remain in his position until midnight, only stopping to take bathroom breaks. By the end of the first week, he had dark circles rimming his beautiful green eyes and faint red patches on his hands where he had begun rubbing his thumbs in anxiety. When he had noticed this, Even had decided to take matters into his own hands. 

Even’s last class of the day usually ended a half hour before Isak’s. This gave him plenty of time to return to the dorm and make food for him or find some movie on Netflix that would burn Even’s cinematic soul but would make Isak chuckle. Together, they would unwind from the stress of lecture before taking up the grueling task of preparing for finals. And, when he deemed it to be late enough, Even would bitch about the lights making it impossible for him to sleep until Isak would finally throw him a dirty glance and get in bed himself. 

His best defense for saving Isak from himself started on a random whim when Even, who had been idly drawing on his bed, noticed Isak wringing his hands together. Before he had fully processed what he was doing, Even was perched in the chair beside Isak, gently pulling one of his hands into his own. At the first touch of the sharpie against his palm, Isak had flinched and jerked his hand back, looking at Even with wide, bewildered eyes. Even had gingerly taken his hand again and told him that he needed to flush out his ideas for an art project and they weren’t flowing properly on paper. He sat there with raised eyebrows, marker raised and palm up, allowing Isak to decide. After a few seconds, Isak placed his hand back in Even’s with a small nod and turned back to his notes. It wasn’t Even’s best argument but he only needed to make it twice before Isak began surrendering his hands willingly whenever Even grabbed a sharpie from the desk and sat beside him. For whatever reason, this seemed to be the best way to calm Isak when he got overstressed. Twice the drawing had wrapped around the entirety of Isak’s hand and up his arm almost past his elbow. 

Even didn’t mind, though. He would do anything for Isak.

“Well, I know you got a 6.” At Isak’s withering look, Even holds his hands up defensively. “Ok, but a 5 is all the lower I’ll go. You definitely got a 5. I can feel it in my bones. My bones, Isak.” Even nods his head in affirmation, digging his fingers back into Isak’s curls.

Isak snorts and rolls his eyes but doesn’t show any signs of arguing. Instead, he turns his head and presses his nose into Even’s thigh causing his heart to start beating faster. “Whatever. It’s over now and I never want to talk or think about it again. What movie are we gonna watch?”

And that’s the problem. Taking care of Isak had momentarily allowed Even to forget why he was upset himself. The reminder of the serious lack of Isak spoiling materials at the ready causes guilt to pang through him. He has no idea how to break this to Isak, can’t believe he even did this to begin with. How can he ask him for something that could potentially ruin their friendship, a friendship that had slowly morphed into everything for Even over the course of the last four months?

Maybe that was part of the problem though, because for Even it hadn’t been so much a slow morphing as a face-first plant into loving the other boy. From the first moment Even had spotted the green-eyed boy in the snapback at orientation, Even was struck with the desire to talk to him, to know him. Walking into his dorm only to find himself face-to-face with the angel digging anatomy books out of his bag in search of his bed sheets had almost given Even a heart attack.

It had only gotten worse from there because, while Isak was grumpy almost 90% of the time, he was also sweet and so soft Even wanted to cry sometimes. They had only had one real fight and even that had turned out to be a good thing for them, allowing them to get closer than before.

The second week of classes, Even had returned to the dorm late from the library wanting nothing more than a shower and to maybe watch Romeo and Juliet, really live a little. Apparently the universe had had other plans, though, because when he entered the dorm he was almost knocked over by the smell of weed and the eyebrows of the boy lounging on his bed.

This would have been fine, except Even had been stressing about the transition into college and living away from home on his own for the first time. Isak introduced his friend, who promptly offered him the joint, but Even was simply not in the mood. In fact, he was rather annoyed with the temptation to smoke after he had promised himself that he wouldn’t resume smoking as heavily as he had while at Bakka. The last thing he wanted was to trigger an episode.

Of course, he hadn’t handled the situation well, and Isak had apparently misconstrued his reaction as a judgmental, uppity disdain. When Jonas left, Isak had snapped at him about being a dick and how sobriety didn’t make him any better than them. It had escalated until Even declared that he was bipolar and using substances sometimes affected his meds as well as his stability.

Even had never intended to tell Isak, and he watched warily as the emotions flowed across his face and in his candy-apple green eyes until his expression morphed into something that Even couldn’t identify. He was sure that Isak was about to declare his intention to switch rooms, afterall who wanted to be paired up with a bipolar stranger? Sure, they weren’t complete strangers, but there’s a difference between divulging your major and your entire mental health history.

To his surprise though, Isak had simply said “oh” and that he understood. He was prompted into further explanation by Even’s skeptical eyebrow raise. Isak explained how he used to be afraid of mental illness because of his mother. He told him about leaving his home when he was 16 and his dad had walked out and he was just too alone and terrified to be there anymore. He explained how with the help of one of his friends whose mother was bipolar, and in Isak’s stellar description “pretty damn awesome,” he was able to rekindle a relationship with her. She was finally getting the care she needed, and Isak was almost as proud of her as she was of him.

Just like Isak had done earlier, Even surprised himself by telling him about the downward spiral that had led to his diagnosis during his third year at Bakka. He told him everything about that time in his life, including the blackest point that had almost taken his life. He struggled through the memories of dropping out and retaking his third year. It wasn’t all painful, though. During his gap year between Bakka and university he had finally reached out to his old friends and, after discussing everything, they had started to reshape a better friendship than before. Other than declaring with a weak smile that he was glad Even was still alive, Isak didn’t interrupt, just let Even get it all off his chest.

They stayed awake until three in the morning just talking to each other in soft voices, wrapped up in the duvet on Isak’s bed. Talking to Isak had somehow felt like a sort of rebirth in a way it hadn’t with any of his therapists or even his mother, and when he fell asleep curled up with Isak, he couldn’t remember a time he had felt safer.

After that night, something shifted. Rather than idly speaking in between classes and working on homework, they started talking all the time, and about everything. There was also a lot of touching and bed sharing, though not the kind that Even found himself craving more and more. Isak had quickly become like a second skin to Even, and he was pretty sure that Isak felt the same.

“Even,” Isak whines. He twists a little so his face isn’t so hidden in the gap between Even’s thigh and stomach so he can look up at him with one eye, the other still scrunched shut. 

“What’s up?” he murmurs.

“I think I did something stupid today,” Even replies, voice quiet, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth to chew on it.

“Hey,” Isak, both eyes now open and fully engaged, raises his hand to gently pry Even’s lip loose with his thumb, “don’t do that. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“Maybe I want to hurt myself,” Even responds without thinking, and he watches as Isak’s eyes widen with concern and he sits up properly beside him.

“What happened? No, screw that.” Isak cups Even’s cheek, searching his eyes, “Are you ok?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I just-” He cuts himself off with a sigh, watching Isak and trying to find a way to push the words out of his mouth. For his part, Isak just rubs his thumb along his cheekbone and waits. He’s always patient with Even, never pushes him to do or say something he doesn’t want to. “My mom called me today."

Understanding and sympathy cloud Isak’s eyes at the declaration. He knows all about the constant calls and texts from Even’s mother reminding him to take his meds, not to drink or smoke too much, to do his homework, to relax because college isn’t worth all this damaging stress. Even knows that she only does it because she cares and loves him so much, but he can’t stop himself from wishing that she would treat him more like his brothers. He’s 20 damn it, he doesn’t want to be coddled like he’s 12. That shit doesn’t help anybody.

“She said that she just wanted to double check when I would be leaving so she knew about what time I would be home, right?” Even pauses, waiting for Isak to nod along and for himself to swallow the feeling of nausea. “But by the end of the call, we were arguing about the fact that I hadn’t told her about lowering the dosage of lithium I’m taking.”

“You talked that out with your therapist, though. It wasn’t a rash decision.”

“I know! And I think it’s been going pretty well too-”

“It has.” Isak is quick to interrupt. “I mean, you’ve been doing really good this semester. I’m proud of you, Ev.”

The small smile that takes over his face is completely involuntary. Even knew that Isak would react like this, but it still squeezes his heart to think that Isak feels this fiercely about him. The desire to tell Isak that he’s proud of him too is hard to push down but he does because that’s not the point right now.

“Anyway, I told her that. Told her that it was something I discussed with not only my therapist but with my best friend,” Isak preens slightly at this but otherwise doesn’t comment, “and that she didn’t need to be so worried about me. To which she said that she wished I had somebody to look after me here and a bunch of other stuff that I kinda tuned out.”   
And here it is, the big mistake that Even still couldn’t believe he had made. “So, I told her that, um, that my boyfriend did all of those things.”

At the word “boyfriend,” Even had cringed, but Isak… Isak had flinched back, almost falling off the side of the small bed with the force of it. Even grabs his wrist to keep him from dropping to the floor head-first and uses the leverage to pull a dumbfounded looking Isak back into his space.

“You- you have a boyfriend?” Isak asks. His voice is coming out strangled and the look on his face is indecipherable to Even, which is unsettling because Even’s supposed to know this boy inside and out.

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean ‘not exactly?’ You either have a boyfriend or you don’t. It’s not rocket science, Even.”

“Wow, ok. Um, no, I don’t have a boyfriend, but I kind of told my mom that I did.”

“That’s priceless,” Isak snorts. Now that it’s clear that Even isn’t seeing anyone, he’s back to acting like himself. “That’s the big, horrible thing that you did today? Sometimes people lie to their parents, Even. It’s no big deal. She probably won’t even find out.”

If Even’s heart starts beating any faster, he thinks it’ll pop out of his chest like in one of those cartoons. Realistically, that’s probably not possible, but then again, they had to get the idea from somewhere right?

“She might find out, though, because she might hypothetically be under the impression that I’m bringing him home with me for Christmas.”

Isak’s back to looking confused. “Why would you tell her you would bring home an imaginary guy with you for the holidays? Wouldn’t it have been easier to just tell her that he had his own family to see over break?”

Of course, that would have been easier, but this was Even they were talking about. Half-assing anything just wasn’t a concept he was familiar with. He once pulled every single paper towel out of a dispenser in a bathroom at the mall to get the attention of a beautiful boy he had caught sight of in the bookstore. Nothing had ever come of it, but 15-year-old Even had really gone all-in for that gorgeous creature.

It probably would have been easy for his mom to buy that his boyfriend had his own family to go see, but at the time Even had been swept up in not only getting his mom off his back but also in his own fantasy. “I sort of told her I was dating you.” His voice rises towards the end making it sound more like a question than a statement.

“You told her what?!” Isak pulls back again so he’s looking at Even directly. He seems a weird mixture of exasperated and angry. “Why would you tell her you were dating me?”

“I don’t know!” Even exclaims. “You’re just- I was- I don’t know,” he finishes weakly.

He did know the reason behind his stupid lie. He told his mom he was dating Isak because he wants to date Isak, plain and simple. When he had told her, it had been the first thought that popped into his mind as he was fiddling with a loose string on his Santa Claus socks. Socks that he had stolen from Isak.

“Ok. So, what are we going to do? Am I actually coming home with you?” If he didn’t know any better he would swear that some of the light had dimmed in Isak’s eyes, but as it was he’s too busy internally freaking out that Isak had said “we” like it was their problem and not just his.

“Oh my God, Isak. You don’t have to obviously, but would you? That would help me out so much.” Screw not getting his hopes up, Isak might actually be willing to go through with this for him. Even didn’t even have to bring the awkward question up himself.

Isak rolls his eyes, “I could be persuaded to if you show me how bad you want it.”

Even leaps off the bed in excitement and gets down on one knee in front of Isak who’s staring at him in fond exasperation. “Isak Valtersen, would you make me the happiest man in the world and do me the great honor of becoming my fake boyfriend for Christmas?”

“You are such a fucking dork.” He rolls his eyes again and bites down on a smile when Even starts laughing. “I’m serious,” he starts laughing himself, “you are the lamest person I know.”

“Well, as the master of lame, you would know; but is that a yes?”

“Yes. God knows why and you totally owe me for this, but it’s a yes.”

Even squeals and surges up to pounce on Isak. They fall backwards onto the bed in a heap of laughter, and Even feels so light and warm and happy in this moment. He kisses Isak’s cheeks, delighted in the sounds Isak makes as he tries to squirm out of his grasp. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You are the best. I worship at the shrine that is Isak Valtersen.” Even says his name like it’s a revelation, and in a way, for him, it is.

“Yeah, you better. And don’t sound so surprised. I am clearly the best,” Isak declares proudly, puffing his chest out. “Now,” Isak finally disentangles himself from Even’s arms and flops down onto the bed, his hair haloing around him on the pillow, “if I’m not mistake, and I’m not, isn’t there supposed to be cheese toasties and a movie?”

“You’re wish,” Even runs his finger playfully down Isak’s nose, “is my command.”

Thirty minutes later, there are four perfectly seasoned cheese toasties and a movie playing on Even’s laptop sitting on the bed. Isak is snuggled up in Even’s side with his head propped up on his chest as they eat. Even shares random facts and interpretations about the movie intermittently.

About halfway through the movie during a quiet moment where Even has nothing to add, Isak speaks up.

“Hey, Even?”

“Yeah?” he whispers, looking down at the beautiful curls fanning out against his shirt.

“Are you wearing my socks?”

**

“Fair warning: if you at any point during this trip start playing Christmas music, I’m going to full body hurl myself out of the car. Don’t care where we are or what speed we’re going.”

Even, who’s lounging against the side of the car in the parking lot to the dorm building, looks up as Isak makes his way over to him, dragging his bag behind him. He really wants to say something about it because Even’s pretty sure that cotton isn’t made to slide across pavement even if it is covered in about three inches of snow, but Isak’s been a bit on the grumpy side since Even shook him awake half an hour ago. In his defense, he had told Isak to pack the night before. It wasn’t his fault that he had left it for 8’oclock this morning.

As he reaches Even, he pokes one gloved finger into his chest and tells him with as much authority as a sleep-deprived, annoyed Isak can muster up, “I’m not fucking around, Even. No Christmas music.”

“That’s not very festive of you.” Even scrunches his eyebrows and places a hand on his chest as though the thought of Isak’s lack of Christmas spirit has offended him.

“I’ll have you know I’m the master of festivity. I just chose to express it in…” he pauses, bobbing his head as though thinking of the right words, “other ways.”

“Other ways?” Even laughs. “Do tell, what are these ‘other ways’ that you speak of?” He makes air quotes around the ‘other ways.’

Isak narrows his eyes slightly and opens his mouth as if to defend himself, but Even cuts him off before he can get a word out. “Oh, I know. Your spirit of the season is best expressed by sleeping in till noon and wearing boxers with snowflakes on them.”

“Exactly. It’s a fine taste that has to be acquired,” Isak explains as he leaves Even’s side to walk to the passenger’s side of the car. He pauses near the front of the car and places his hands on the hood, leaning his body across it in Even’s direction. “Don’t pretend that you don’t love it. Those boxers are gold and you know it.”

Boy does he. There’s just something about seeing Isak walking around the dorm in black boxers covered in little yellow bells surrounded with the words “Jingle My Bells” written on them that has Even popping a boner faster than he would like to admit. Even wants to jingle Isak’s bells.

“Does your car not have heat or something?” Noticing Even’s confusion, Isak gestures to Even’s body which is covered in two hoodies, a winter jacket, gloves, and a hat.

“Yes, my car has a heater, but it’s cold outside, Isak, and I’m transporting precious cargo.”

“Even,” Isak exclaims, eyes wide, placing his hand over his heart, “you are so sweet. I’m flattered, honestly.”

“Oh,” Even sucks in a breath through his teeth and winces, “this is awkward, but I was actually talking about me. Not that you’re not great,” Even puts his hand out in a placating manner, “but have you seen this packaging?”

Isak bursts out laughing at Even’s quirked eyebrow and flagrant displaying of his body. Even loves it when Isak laughs, especially when he’s the reason why Isak’s so happy. He’s able to hold a straight face for a whooping total of five more seconds before he’s joining in and laughing himself.

They finally get into the car rather than just standing outside of it talking across the roof. Even decides to crank the heater on full blast because, while he’s wearing enough layers that the car’s warmth will quickly turn into a sauna for him, Isak is only wearing a light jacket over a sweater with a pair of matching burgundy gloves and a beanie. He’ll gladly melt to keep Isak from turning into a popsicle.

The scratch of fabric against his cheek catches Even off guard and he jerks to the side, almost banging his head against the glass of the window. Isak is in the process of throwing his bag over the seat and setting it in the back of the car. If Isak were a normal person like Even, he would have placed his bag safely on the backseat before he got in the car, but clearly that was not the way Isak thought.

“Be careful with that,” Even warns as he puts the car in drive and begins pulling out of the parking space. “I don’t want you to damage my present.”

“What makes you think I bought you a present?” Isak questions. He’s currently wiggling around in the seat in an attempt to get comfortable. He’s not sure if it’s working for Isak, but the way he’s moving his hips is definitely doing something for Even.

“It’s common sense that you would buy me something. I am your best friend.”

“Technically, Jonas is my best friend.” The admission hurts Even worse than he thought it would and he finds himself tightening his grip on the steering wheel unconsciously. Obviously, Jonas has known Isak longer than Even has as they practically grew up together and followed each of to university, so it makes sense that he would be more important to him than Even is. He had just thought that maybe-

Pressure against his leg causes him to look down. There’s a gloved-hand curling around his thigh, and he traces from the hand up the arm until he finally reaches Isak’s eyes. He looks gentle and soft, but when he speaks in a quiet voice Even can hear the seriousness underneath the tone. “Best friend isn’t enough for how important you are to me.” Isak’s cheeks are stained bright red, rivaling the color of the stop light they’re currently sitting at.

For a moment they just stare at each other, but then the light turns- bathing Isak in a light green to match the specks in his eyes- and he looks forward again to go through the intersection. Isak takes his hand back, but the pounding of Even’s heart doesn’t slow. He’s not sure exactly what Isak meant by that, but he told himself a while ago not to overanalyze and attribute feelings to Isak that he might not have.

Instead, Even makes an attempt to lighten the mood. He wiggles his eyebrows, “So, I am getting something from you then?”

“Shut up. Did you get me anything?”

“Of course, I did, but you’re gonna have to wait until Christmas to open it.” Even glances over at Isak. He’s finally stopped moving and has his body slouched so far down in the seat that anyone looking in from passing cars would think Even was alone and talking to himself. He pulled his beanie down so it’s shielding his eyes from the bright morning light and his legs are spread out as far as they can go in the limited space.

The twitching of lips like they’re fighting against a smile is all the answer that Even gets, and after a few more silent minutes, Even whines his name to prompt him into giving him his answer.

Heaving a sigh, Isak lifts one side of his hat to reveal an eye to look over at Even. “Yes, I got you something. Now, will you leave me alone so I can sleep?”

Rather than replying, Even plugs in his phone and puts on his relaxation playlist. The music begins flowing through the speakers quietly, but Even’s more focused on the way 

Isak’s breathing is evening out as he drops off into sleep.

**

When Isak resurfaces into consciousness about 45 minutes later, Even is vigorously singing along to Somebody Else by The 1975, swaying his body to the rhythm in the limited space available in the driver’s seat.

“You should be a singer,” he rasps, voice thick with sleep.

Even startles and glances over at the other boy as he lifts himself up to be seated properly beside him. “You really think so?” He grins, “When I was younger I wanted to go on one of those singing competition shows, blow the judges away,” he sweeps his hand in front of him to illuminate his point. “I even started saving my birthday money for a plan ticket. Planned on running away and becoming famous.”

“With a voice like that, you probably could’ve. But look at you now, going to uni to become a famous director.” Putting his hand on Even’s shoulder, he says in mock seriousness, 

“Promise to remember little old me when you become a hot shot in Hollywood.”

Even rolls his eyes, “Remember you. I’m gonna make a fucking movie about you.” He’s only half joking.

“Oh, Even,” he says in a fake tone like a southern bell, fanning himself, “you really know how to make a girl blush.”

“Well, I try ma’am,” he replies with a gentlemanly nod of his head, cracking a smile at Isak.

He receives a shove to the shoulder for that, Isak giggles out, “You are such a fucking dork.”

“Probably,” he agrees. He came to terms with his fate a long time ago. “Anyway, we should probably run through how this weekend is going to go, you know, so we’re both on the same page about everything.” Even wants to scoff at his own choice of words because the very principle of what they’re doing puts them on different pages. Hell, they’re in two separate libraries seeing as Even’s pretty sure he’s in love with Isak and Isak just sees him as a friend, but that’s just semantics.

“Alright, what are we looking at then?”

“Ok,” Even starts, “I’m pretty sure you’re going to love my brothers. Lukas, he’s the one who’s 25, is just like the boy squad if someone mushed chunks of each of their personalities into one person, and Einar-he’s 5- he’s the cutest little kid you will ever meet. Seriously,” he says, nodding enthusiastically, eyebrows raised, “he is the sweetest, little ball of energy. You’ll just- you’ll fall in love with him, dude.”

Isak smiles at him as he listens to Even ramble about his family. He’s heard a lot of it before but he always pays attention whenever Even gets excited about something, even if he doesn’t always understand, like when he starts talking about his latest film projects, throwing around jargon about camera angles and lighting that Isak has never heard of. Even knows the experience all too well from the many times Isak’s come home from lab excitedly recounting what he’d done and his plans for the next experiment. Does he understand? No, but the look on Isak’s face as his eyes light up and he flushes slightly is enough to make Even cling to every incomprehensible word.

“As for my mom,” he continues, “she’s great. All of my friends refer to her as their second mom, and she’s basically adopted them all. I know she’s going to love you,” he tells Isak with a reassuring smile.

“So, to sum up, I’m going to love your family and they’re gonna love me?”

“Yes,” Even insists.

Isak tilts his head, looking at Even for a moment, eyes squinted as though trying to decipher something. “Okay, then. That doesn’t sound too bad. I’d even go as far as to say it seems manageable. What about PDA?” He questions nonchalantly, like it’s the most nature thing to ask.

Even almost swerves off the road. “I- I haven’t really thought about it. We can do whatever you’re comfortable with, nothing more. Whether my mom believes us or not isn’t hanging in the balance of how much affection we show each other. We should be fine with just like sitting close together and holding hands or something like that. If it’s okay with you?” He glances at Isak nervously.

He’s looking at his hands, picking with a hangnail, but eventually he nods slowly, “That should be fine. Hand holding doesn’t bother me and it’s not like we don’t cuddle as it is. Cheek kisses are ok too, but I’d rather not actually kiss, like on the mouth, if that’s chill? Just, um, personal reasons,” he shrugs. The motion jerks his hand, tearing the hangnail on his thumb and Isak winces, a little drop of blood welling in the spot where the skin separated.

Even reaches over with a hand, the other remaining on the steering wheel, and catches Isak’s eyes, “It’s absolutely chill.”

“Ok,” he mumbles, then repeats it louder with more conviction, “Ok. Now can we please put some good music on?” he asks, eyeing the phone screen that’s declaring they’re currently listening to 5 Fine Frøkner.

“Isak,” he gasps, retracting his hand to place over his heart in mock offence, “are you questioning my music taste?”

“No, not questioning. I’m straight up calling you out.”

“Since it’s Christmas, just for you, I’ll change the song. But know that this song is amazing and you are denying both me and yourself a truly exceptional experience. I’m talking once in a lifetime.”

Isak rolls his eyes in a way that looks a little painful. Even can see the whites of his eyes completely. It looks a little demonic. “Once in a lifetime my ass. I must be a cat then because I’m pretty sure I’ve heard you blast this shitty song about a million times now. Either it’s not as rare an experience as you claim or I have more than one lifetime I’m living. And, if that’s the case, I can’t believe I chose to spend this life stuck in this car with you listening to this.”

“Wow. That’s a little harsh. I’m hurt, Isak.”

He changes the song anyway, putting on something by NAS. Isak instantly lights up, trying to rap along to the lyrics and attempting to convince Even to be his beat box.

**

Walking in the front door feels like coming home after a long day, refreshing and freeing as the warm air envelopes them, replacing the cold that had settled in their bones on the walk to the front door. There's a smell of spices and pine from the Christmas tree in the living room adjacent to the entry hall, right across from the staircase. Breathing it in brings back years of memories, reviving old feelings and images that always seem to be lost until a certain scent calls it all back. If memory serves, then everyone is in the kitchen, his mom having recruited the troops to help her with dinner. The faint sound of Jingle Bells echoing down the hall tells him he's right. It also earns him a glare from Isak which he just shrugs at. "You said no Christmas music in the car. We’re not in the car." Isak’s glare intensifies, eyes closing into slits, but otherwise doesn't argue.

They're in the process of kicking off their boots and setting down their bags when a loud squeal pierces the air. Thundering footsteps and a mop of messy brown hair flying wildly are Even’s only warning to brace himself before the little boy crashes into him, wrapping his arms around his legs and squeezing tightly, causing them both to stumble. He's gotten taller, his forehead now pressing into Even’s thigh, nose digging into his knee.

"Evy, I missed you!" Einar shrieks, the volume the only thing allowing him to make sense of the otherwise muffled words.

"I missed you too, little buddy," he says, bending down to be on face level with his overly excited little brother. Don't get him wrong, he's extremely ecstatic as well at the prospect of being home and back within snuggling range of Einar, he's just better at controlling his excitement than the five-year-old. "Hey, Einar," he calls, rubbing his back while the boy snuffles into his neck. "This is my boyfriend Isak."

Einar moves enough to see the stranger standing awkwardly in their foyer, head sliding down Even’s neck to rest against his collarbones, hair tickling Even as it glides over his skin. There's a splotchy blush rising along Isak’s cheek bones, a result of Even referring to him as his boyfriend for the first time combined with the way Einar seems to be sizing him up as though deciding whether or not he’s worthy of dating his favorite person.

"Um, hi." Isak gives a small wave, smiling unsurely at the pair embarrassingly fiercely in front of him. The little boy looks completely at ease, happy in his older brother's arms who looks protective and comforting. Even’s soft by nature, but Isak’s never seen him quite like this. They look so similar that Isak doesn't need to see the family photos lining the   
walls to know what a young Even looked like.

Finally reaching a conclusion about the new addition, Einar breaks into a smile, waving back at Isak. He turns back to Even and declares officially, "I like him, Evy. You should keep him, he's pretty." The light dusting of pink blooms into a vibrant red blush, painting Isak’s cheeks beautifully. Even thinks he might die from the sheer amount of affection and happiness radiating through his body.

"He is very pretty, isn't he?" Even agrees, hoisting the little boy up to sit against his hip. "So, what are you up to? Why are you covered in-" he pauses, rubbing his fingers along 

Einar’s cheek, removing the smears of light brown spice, licking it off his index finger- "cinnamon?"

"Were making gingerbread cookies." Einar happily reports, kicking his feet against Even’s butt and thigh.

"Gingerbread cookies, huh?" Even looks thoughtfully over at Isak who seems to be growing more comfortable by the minute. "Do you need some help? I don't know about Isak, but I've been told I make excellent cookies."

"Excuse you, but I happen to be the master of baking gingerbread cookies."

Even highly doubts that. The first time Isak tried to cook anything in their dorm he'd gotten sidetracked writing a report and ended up setting off the fire alarm. The entire building had to evacuate while the firemen went through the rooms, the tenants standing around in the parking lot for 45 minutes.

Einar on the other hand doesn't seem to have similar reservations, breaking into a wide smile. "Oh good. We can use that. Now, onward to the kitchen," he declares primly, pointing down the hall to the kitchen door, waiting for Even to carry him to the destination.

Isak raises his eyebrows, Even rolls his eyes and shrugs, "You're lucky you're cute." Nobody believes that's the only reason Even starts making the trek to the kitchen with Einar still snuggly tucked against him, taking the opportunity to grab Isak’s hand and drag him along, lacing their fingers together. They are supposed to be a couple afterall, couples hold hands. If he's taking a little advantage of the situation to do something he dreams about doing when they're walking to class together, then sue him.

“Is that my baby,” his mom asks when they enter the room, lowering the temperature on the stove to leave the pasta she’s cooking unattended while she walks over to her middle child and wraps him in a hug.

“Hei, mama,” he breathes, closing his eyes and inhaling the flowery scent of her perfume. God, he missed her.

“Well, then,” she says pulling back and brushing some strands of light brown hair out of her face where they have fallen from the messy bun she’d tied it up in, “let me look at you, baby.” Holding his face between her hands, she looks him over, piercing blue eyes taking note of everything. “My boy back home for Christmas. How are you? You’re ok, right? Been eating enough, sleeping enough? Taking your meds every day?”

“Mama,” he groans, “yes. I’m fine.”

A snort draws his attention to the table where Lukas is sitting playing with two of the gingerbread cookies. To the untrained eye it looks innocent enough, but after years of messing around with him, Even can see through his charade to notice the indecent act the gingerbread men are meant to be replicating. “She gave me the third degree too.”

“No, I did not give you ‘the third degree,’” she says, exasperated, “It’s not an interrogation for crying out loud, despite how much you two love to think it is. I’m simply making sure that my children are doing alright living so far away from home.”

“It’s a two-hour drive, mama. Not like we left the country,” Lukas retorts, but there’s no malice behind the words.

“I know that. We just miss you boys, don’t we my little love?” she questions, brushing back some of Einar’s hair and giving him a kiss from where he’s perched on Even’s hip.

“Yes. We. Do,” Einar chants, bouncing up with every word, rattling Even.

She smiles softly, eyes crinkling, before directing her gaze and the room’s attention onto the other blond boy in the room lingering in the doorway. “This must be your young man then,” she teases, “Why don’t you introduce him so he doesn’t feel the need to run from the room.”

“This is Isak, mama,” he introduces him, grabbing his sweater sleeve and tugging him into his other side. Just because he can, he adds, “My boyfriend.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’ll admit that Even hasn’t told me much about you,” she throws him a pointed glance, “but from what he has told me, you sound like the perfect young man for my baby.”

“I like to think so,” he replies, glancing at Even before turning back to the women in front of him wearing a sweater covered in little reindeer. “Even talks a lot about you, though.   
It’s really nice to meet you, Mrs. Bech Næsheim.”

“Honey,” she sighs, gently brushing his hand aside when he offers it out for her to shake, pulling him in for a bone-crushing hug instead, “if you’re with Even, then you’re family.”

Isak seems a little disoriented when she pulls back, but she surges on, “And please call me Ann. When I hear Mrs. Bech Næsheim, I look around for my ex mother-in-law,” she laughs, returning to the boiling pasta, sprinkling in a little salt to reduce the amount of bubbles.

Even gives Isak a gentle squeeze before placing Einar on the floor and walking over to the table, sitting beside Lukas who waggles his eyebrows at the little gingerbread couple defiling the surface they’re about to eat on. He rolls his eyes, “Trust me, I noticed.”

Curious, Isak glances over Even’s shoulder to see what they’re discussing. Even knows the precise moment it registers for him by the scandalous noise that escapes him. “Is that- are they-”

“Yes,” Even and Lukas confirm together.

“Huh,” Isak tilts his head, sitting down in one of the other empty chairs surrounding the table, “If you wanted it to be anatomically correct, though, you should put the one’s legs-” He trails off, reaching across the table and helping to maneuver the cookies into the optimal position to complete the scene with authenticity. “There,” he says, leaning back in the seat and crossing his arms, obviously pleased with his handiwork.

“Oh my god. That’s fucking priceless, dude.” Lukas is grinning at Isak as though he just told him all the world’s secrets. He pulls out his phone to snap a picture before breaking them apart just in time to spare their little brother who jumps on Even’s back, squeezing himself in the little space between the back of the chair and Even’s body, looping his arms around his neck.

When his arms tighten a little too much causing Even to struggle for air, he loosens the death grip, mumbling a cautious warning, “Careful, monkey.”

“Ok, Evy.”

Getting comfortable, Even starts mixing the spices on the table to assist in making more gingerbread.

“You have cinnamon,” Isak gestures to his neck, leaning over and swiping his thumb over Even’s pulse point, wiping off the small stain that was transferred when Einar had nuzzled his face into Even’s neck.

“Aren’t you two just the cutest?”

Even looks up to find all eyes on him and Isak. Lukas looks amused, but his mother has a look of utter joy on her face. “So, tell us how you boys met,” she says, shutting off the burner and moving the pot of noodles to allow them to cool some before dinner. Grabbing a glass of red wine, she moseys over to the last remaining chair at the table and sits down, glancing expectantly between Isak and Even. “Well?” she prompts when neither seems to be inclined to satisfy her curiosity.

“We met in the dorm the day we moved in. We’re roommates,” Isak shares.

“That sounds lovely,” his mother states at the same time Lukas questions, “That’s it?”

“Um, ja,” Isak tries to confirm but it comes out as more of a question.

Lukas seems unfazed, gracing over Isak’s confirmation, “How did you get together, then?”

Even unfreezes himself to supply an answer. Why didn’t they discuss what their romantic backstory was going to be? “It, um, it just kinda happened. We were studying and decided to take a break and instead of just going out for coffee we went out for a date.” There, that sounds reasonable, a kind of gradual development from friends to lovers.

Apparently, Lukas doesn’t agree, though, because he’s gaping at Even like he’s some type of unknown creature that just showed up at the table and tried to unsuccessfully blend in. They stare at each other for a while, Even unable to process what Lukas’ problem is. Eventually, he raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, looking over at first his mom and then Isak trying to assess whether anyone has a clue as to what is going on.

“Wait, are you actually being serious right now? That’s it? That’s how you asked him out on a date? Wow, Even you have really let yourself go.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Isak cuts in defensively.

“What?” Lukas breaks eye contact with Even to look over at Isak. His eyes widen as he takes the other boy in and realizes what he seems to have been implying. “Nei, nei, nei. I don’t mean he’s lowering his standards to be with you or anything like that. Quite the opposite, in fact. You’re probably lowering your standards to be with him,” their mom swats the back of his head as she takes a sip of wine, “What I meant was that that story was pathetic. Even used to do these over the top, excessive things to woo his romantic interests, and all you got was a study break coffee? I feel cheated for you, bro.”

“It was more romantic than I’m painting it to be,” Even starts to backtrack.

Isak drowns him out though to join cohorts with his brother, “Right? I think Even’s the most extra person I’ve ever met.”

“Trust me, he is. Ok, so, let me tell you about the kind of thing I was expecting this getting together story to be like.” Lukas leans forward excitedly, elbows propped on the table. Isak moves to mirror the pose, completely invested in the latest installment of the embarrass Even chronicles. “It was a few years ago, back when Even’s hair was much more ridiculous than it is now-”

“Hey!” Even cries indignantly, reaching up to touch his quiff defensively. There is absolutely nothing wrong with his hair.

“What? That was a compliment,” Lukas states, pointing his finger accusingly at Even.

“How was that a compliment,” Even splutters.

“Because he said your hair was more ridiculous then, meaning it’s not so ridiculous now,” Isak supplies absently, not even looking at Even. “Please, continue.”

“I will, thank you. So, I think Even was probably like 15 or something like that, and we’d all went to the mall where Even spotted this guy in the bookstore. Rather than just walking up and talking to the kid like a normal person would, this idiot followed him into the bathroom and proceeded to remove every piece of tissue from the dispenser while the guy just stood there watching him, hands dripping all over the floor. It was supposed to entice him to follow him outside for a date or something, I guess. It was gold, dude.”

There’s mirth shining in Lukas’ eyes but the excitement spouting from Isak just moments ago has faded, transitioning into something that has him sitting rigidly on the wooden chair, eyes fliting all over Even’s face as though he’s trying to find a solution to a problem that no one asked. He jumps when Even rests his hand on his knee under the table. “Are you ok?” he whispers so only Isak can hear it.

He nods stiffly, going through the motions without fully registering the words. Even wants to question him further but doesn’t want to press the matter in front of everyone else at the table. He’ll make a mental note to ask him later when they’re up in his room, snuggled up in his bed under a mound of blankets. For now, he’ll settle for the change of subject that slowly brings Isak back online and has him rejoining the conversation, blending in with his family just like Even knew he would.

**

“What are the other Isaks and Evens doing right now?” he ponders, passing the joint back over to Isak, their fingers brushing lingeringly. The first time Isak had explained his theory about parallel universes, Even had been skeptical. He’d always thought of life more like a movie with each individual person directing their own story, but the idea of parallel universes fascinated him, especially the way Isak talked about them like each was a long-lost friend that, even though he would never see them again, still had a special place in his heart.

“I don’t know,” Isak blows out smoke, watching it billow around him before rising towards the ceiling, giving himself time to think. “Some of them are sitting like this, smoking, wondering about what we’re doing.”

“And the rest of them? Are they all smoking together?” Even asks from his position lounging on the bed. He’s on his back, neck craning in order to see Isak where he’s slouched against the wall, one long leg twisted in the sheets, the other tangled under Even’s.

“Nei,” he shakes his head, stretching his arm towards Even to retrieve the joint again. “Some of them are in a time where weed hasn’t even been discovered yet. They’re doing something else. Using some other medieval drug or some shit to get high.” Isak pauses for a moment, taking a drag. He blows it in the vague direction of the cracked window beside the bed, looking thoughtful and a little sad. “Maybe some of them are exactly where we are right now, at your mom’s house for the holidays, smoking in your old bedroom, expect for them this isn’t fake.”

Even tilts his head, eyes boring into Isak’s as if he’ll somehow gain the ability to read his thoughts and figure out what Isak means by that. Does he wish that this was a real relationship or is he sad because this isn’t how he wanted to spend Christmas and he’s lamenting the other Isaks who are happy to do so with their Evens while he’s not? Even’s never been good at deciphering other’s feelings towards him and, even if he was, his mind wouldn’t allow him to believe the conclusions anyway, always twisting things and molding them into a different shape as soon as the light fades.

“Einar calls you Evy a lot,” Isak observes in much the same way one would point out the sky is blue or the grass is green. It’s a thinly veiled attempt at changing the subject but Even goes with him on it because he’s looking at Even nervously, like he’s afraid to be dissected. Also, because Even would go anywhere Isak led him, even if is only a metaphorical direction in a conversation.

“No, yeah. He was considered a late bloomer in the language department, couldn’t say certain words right, if he could even say them at all.” Even slowly maneuvers himself so he’s laid against Isak’s side and places his head in lap. Immediately, nimble fingers are being woven into his hair massaging his scalp, making Even almost purr. Isak always soaks up touch like a starving man, especially when he’s high or drunk, clinging to anyone who’s willing to touch and be touched. More often than not, that person’s Even.

“We didn’t have the money at the time to send him to a speech therapist or anything, and he was such a loving little kid, so we let him refer to us in any way that he could,” Even explains. “When he wanted mama, he would use this strange little humming sound that almost mimicked the way an m is pronounced,” he glances up at Isak who’s gazing down at him, listening intently, fingers still working in Even’s hair, “Lukas was Lu, and I was Evy. Eventually, we were able to have him work with someone. Now it’s hardly noticeable that he struggled, mostly because he won’t shut up,” he jokes, “but the only name he ever changed in regards to us was expanding the hum into mama.”

“So, you’re still Evy,” Isak concludes, combing his fingers through Even’s hair. Even winces when his fingers catch on a few strands, pulling. Isak sheepishly apologizes, leaning down to brush a kiss against his temple to soothe the sting.

“I probably always will be,” Even admits. “And that’s fine, you know. I actually kind of love it. My dad was the one who could never accept it for what it was.” At Isak’s inquisitive look, Even elaborates. “My dad left shortly after Einar started struggling with words. I guess he just couldn’t handle having so many problem children. Lukas was getting in trouble at school, Einar was struggling with speech, and while I wasn’t diagnosed at the time, I was starting to show symptoms. Combined with the fact that mama was unhappy and unafraid to show it, he decided it was the best for him to be somewhere else.”

“I’m sorry,” Isak whispers, knowing all too well what it’s like to watch someone who’s supposed to be a parent walk away without a second glance.

“It’s ok. He was right, it was for the best. None of us really deserved to live like that,” Even says quietly, turning his face and nuzzling the soft material of Isak’s gray sweatpants. They’ve already soaked up some of the smoky scent in the room, but underneath that layer is the unmistakable scent of Isak, which smells just as much like home as his actual house does.

They lay like that for awhile until Isak starts whining about the cold breezing blowing in from the window and Even forces his heavy limbs to move to shut it back up tightly, removing the scarf that had been pressed against the bottom of the door to keep the smell from leaking into the rest of the house as well.

When he returns to the bed, Isak’s already wrapped up under the mountain of blankets, holding up the corner enough to allow Even to wiggle in beside him. It doesn’t take much time before they’re both dozing off, Isak’s head on Even’s chest, cuddled up together with a practiced ease like they’ve been doing it for years. Perhaps in another universe they have been.

**

“But mama said that I could watch it this year, Evy,” Einar reminds him with an overexaggerated pout. His bottom lip is sticking out so far that his top lip is completely covered and looks like it’s being consumed by both his jaw and bottom lip.

Even hasn’t been face-to-face with this puppy eye look since the beginning of August when he left for university. The digital version he had been presented with occasionally over Skype when Einar missed him too much and begged him to come home paled in comparison to this, and Even could feel himself starting to cave. While he couldn’t just drop out of school because his brother asked him to, Even could do this, and it was really fucking tempting to just agree…except- “I think it might be too scary for you, buddy.”

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say because Einar rears back from where he’s perched on Even’s lap and wrinkles his nose in distaste. “I am not a baby, Evy. I can watch a movie without crying or getting scared, thank you very much.” He crosses his arms tightly over his chest with a harrumph.

“Of course, you’re not a baby,” Even tries to appease him. It’s not true, at least not for Even. He wants to wrap him up and cuddle him tight against his chest because of course this boy is his baby. Einar would always be his baby. Even can still remember the day they brought him home from the hospital with overwhelming clarity. “No one here thinks you’re a baby. Right, guys?”

He directs the question at Isak and Lukas with a raised eyebrow, silently asking for back-up, but the fuckers seem to be content to just lounge against the couch and watch the show. Isak at least has the decency to pretend like he’s not enjoying this. Lukas, not so much. There’s mirth in his eyes and his grin is so wide Even can practically see his back teeth, and, yes, Even is Einar ’s older brother but he’s not the oldest. So, why is he the only one concerned about letting a 5-year-old watch The Nightmare Before Christmas?

Seriously, the thought alone is making his hands sweat and stomach turn with anxiety. Sure, their mom said it was okay but she’s always been a little weak when it comes to giving her children what they want.

“Look, all I’m saying is that this movie can be a little… intense,” that sounds like a reasonable word choice, it shouldn’t start a war. Even crosses his fingers that it won’t, “especially if you’re not exactly ready for it.”

“But, Evyyyyy,” Einar draws out, wriggling his little body against Even’s and giving butterfly kisses all over his cheeks, “I am ready for it. I promise. C’mon, please?”

“Yeah, Evy. C’mon, let’s watch the movie,” Lukas mimics their younger brother’s tone. Even thinks he hates him.

“But- I mean- what about- Isak?” Turning to his friend, Even begs with his eyes for him to voice the objections that he can’t with everyone ganging up on him. Plus, the weird little thing Einar is doing with his eyelashes is starting to tickle, causing him to smile. If he smiles it’ll all be over because he can’t deny this happy little boy anything. He never could.

His last hope goes flying right out the window, though, when Isak just shrugs and says nonchalantly, “I don’t know, dude. The opening song literally says, ‘boys and girls of every age.’ Now, I don’t want to question you,” he leans back and shrugs innocently, but Even can clearly see the smirk Isak’s trying to hide, “but doesn’t Einar fall within the range of ‘every age?’” Isak makes stupid, little air quotes around the words, amused with the whole situation.

He squints his eyes at his supposed best friend before turning back to look at Einar- and he jerks back, his head hitting the back of the couch with a bounce. In the time that Even had been distracted, Einar moved so he was now sitting so up close and personal in Even’s space that he has to practically cross his eyes to look at him directly. This, of course, does nothing to deter the giggling mess in his lap who is overjoyed to watch the way his big brother reacts. Instead of moving back like Even is attempting to do, Einar moves closer, trapping Even, and begins blinking his eyes rapidly so his eyelashes brush and tangle against Even’s. He’s not sure when it happened, but the kid has clearly gotten weird.

It’s a lose-lose situation. If they watch the movie, Even has just actively participated in the potential traumatization of a 5-year-old. If they don’t watch the dumb thing because of him, then he risks becoming the Dick Who Killed Christmas Cheer. Either way, his options aren’t looking good, and seeing where the odds currently lie with him being the only sane person opposing, Even gives in. “Okay. Okay. Fine,” he gives in with a sigh, “You can watch it, but only if you put your pajamas on first. And the lights in the hall have to stay on while it plays.”

“Yea! Thank you, Evy!” Einar says, the words more of a shriek than anything else. With a smacking, wet kiss to his cheek, Einar is jumping from Even’s lap and rushing up the stairs to presumably get changed before his brother comes to his senses.

“You know, it wouldn’t have killed you to back me up there,” Even throws at the remaining two boys in the room, staring at them accusingly.

“That may be true,” Lukas begins, picking himself up off the couch and heading towards the kitchen to grab popcorn and drinks, “but I happen to have enough of a drive for self-preservation that I would really rather not test that theory.”

“Oh, please!” Even calls after him, jumping to his knees on the couch and leaning over the back so he can see into the kitchen, “You jumped off the roof once because someone said you couldn’t do it without breaking your leg.”

“Damn straight I did. My honor was at stake, and you know what,” Lukas pauses to raise his eyebrows, pointing at Even, “I was right.”

Even snorts. “The only reason you were ‘right’ is because you broke your arm instead. Self-preservation my ass.” He turns around and flops back down on the sofa in resignation.   
“I can’t believe this.” He drops his arm over his eyes and only jumps a little when he feels Isak’s knee bump against his own.

“It’ll be fine. Seriously, it’s not that scary of a movie. More strange and dark than anything.” Isak gives him a reassuring smile, his knee still touching Even’s.

They stare at each, sitting so close that their breaths mingle and brush against each other’s lips. Lips which Isak is currently licking, pink tongue darting out slightly to trace the cupid’s bow that Even wants to trace with his own tongue, wants to bite and suck and love and never let go of.

The air feels charged with something different than all the other times Even’s been consumed with this desire. For one thing, Isak has this look in his eyes that, while Even can’t complelty place, he thinks might be longing, and, God, wouldn’t that be something to think Isak actually reciprocated the feelings that strangled Even’s heart every day. Just as he starts to lean forward- which, holy shit, Isak is actually moving closer to him as well, half-lidded eyes flicking down his lips- a loud bang breaks them apart, alerting them to Einar’s return as the small boy jumps the last three steps and lands solidly back on the ground floor.

Clad in a pair of light blue pajamas covered in little, yellow ducks, he rushes into the living room, brown hair ruffled and flying in every direction. He stops for a second, cocking his head to the side to look at Even and Isak, before sauntering over to Lukas who’s waiting to receive him with open arms in the adjacent chair. He barley reacts as the boy jumps on him, hugging him close and wiggling around until he finds a comfortable enough position. Instead, he’s watching Even with this weird look that Even doesn’t even want to attempt to decipher because he has no idea how long his brother has been there. Last time he checked Lukas was still in the kitchen preparing snacks, which sure enough, are laid out across the coffee table in front of them.

Not only had he missed his brother’s return, but he had also missed him standing right in front of them, placing a bowl of popcorn and cans of soda on the table. Even can feel his cheeks starting to burn in embarrassment at the idea that he had been so caught up in Isak that everything else just faded away from him. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Even guesses Isak is working through the same thing he is as his face is a bright red and he’s studiously staring at the grape juice stain on the rug.

“Are we gonna start the movie or what?” Lukas questions, carefully balancing the squirming boy in his lap as he leans over to grab some popcorn for him. He seems to be normal, but the way he’s still gazing at Even every so often is telling a different story.

But, Even doesn’t want to figure out what it means or what the hell just happened between Isak and him, so he grabs the remote, hoping the masterpiece mash-up of Halloween and Christmas can distract him from the thrumming in his veins.

“If you want me to stop the film at any time, just let me know, Einar. Nobody here will think anything bad if you do.”  
The little boy gives Even a look like he just ate a sour lemon at the same time Isak declares, “He’ll be fine. Maybe he’ll even find comfort in it because you know who else has giant, giraffe legs like Jack?”

“Even!” Einar and Lukas sing-song together.

“Hey! What- what the hell, Isak? You’re literally just as tall as I am!” Even cries, gesturing wildly with his arms as he gapes at Isak. The little shit is laughing his ass off next to him, clutching his sides against the ache forming from the gasping shakes coursing through his body.

“Actually,” he chuckles out, “I’m not the same height as you. You’re slightly taller.”

“I- What? That’s barely even noticeable!”

“Noticeable enough apparently,” Lukas supplies, and Isak gives him an appreciative nod.

Einar is even nodding along, the traitor. Just wait and see if Even gives him anything again. It’s a bluff and he knows it, but the little declaration makes him feel a little better about this whole situation because, seriously, when did it become pick on Even night?

“That’s fine. Just means that you’re closer to Hell,” Even retaliates. For a moment, he regrets saying it because Isak freezes and his eyes go wide, but then a half second later he’s laughing even harder than before, practically falling against Even. He wishes he could be more annoyed, or even irritated at all to be honest, but the truth is he just doesn’t have it in him. He’s powerless against a laughing Isak, especially when his eyes are crinkled and his smile is so wide Even can see the adorable little gaps between his teeth. He wants Isak to be like this forever, even if it is at his own expense.

Before anyone else can get a retort in, Even presses play and snuggles back into the cushions, grabbing a blanket from the woven basket beside the sofa to throw over his legs.

It takes a few more minutes, but eventually everyone quiets down and settles in for the next hour and a half. About halfway through the first song, Isak crawls under the blanket as well and snuggles into Even’s side. It’s practically second-nature the ease with which they execute the task of twisting their limbs together. Isak worms one of his legs underneath Even’s as Even lifts his arm to welcome Isak closer, his fingers tracing absentmindedly along the exposed skin of his hand causing Isak to sigh in content and burrow closer. He’s lying down enough that his head is resting against Even’s collar bones, and Even takes the opportunity to rest his cheek on top of Isak’s head, breathing in his hair.

“Sorry about the whole height thing,” Isak whispers while, on screen, Jack maneuvers his gangly, spider legs through the forest.

“It’s okay. I didn’t really mind,” he whispers back, “Sorry I said you were closer to Hell.”

Isak pulls back a little to look up at Even. “Well, you never really know,” he replies, waggling his eyebrows, face melting into a tired grin when Even laughs softly.

Even’s breath almost stops completely when Isak pushes himself up and presses a light kiss on the side of his jaw, cold nose just barley brushing against his heated cheek, before smiling dopily and turning back to the movie. He takes a moment to breathe and try to slow his rapidly pounding heart lest it burst from his chest. Isak had kissed him. Isak just kissed him, and maybe it wasn’t on the mouth where he so desperately wanted, but it also wasn’t for show because no one in the room was paying them any attention. Which means, Isak wanted to kiss him. Isak wanted to kiss Even. He thinks he might die because there’s definitely not enough air going into his lungs, but it doesn’t matter because Isak is breathing beside him and Isak is part of Even’s lifeforce, has been since the day they met and Isak had repeated his name like it held some type of hidden meaning unbeknownst to Even himself.

Maybe it’s this thought or perhaps it’s the way the room is dark save for the light coming from the tv and Christmas tree in the corner throwing the room into surreal magic that gives Even the strength to lean his head back against Isak’s and resume massaging his palm. Whatever it is, Even exhales slowly and presses his lips to Isak’s golden curls, murmuring, “My hoodie looks hot on you.”

**

“What if someone stitches Oogie Boogie back together and he comes to get us?”

What the hell?

Even’s eyes snap open at the fiercely whispered words ringing out in the dark. In his groggy state, fear tingles down his spine, knocking the wind out of him, though he’ll never admit it. It’s just that he was deep asleep and the room is dark and he was woken because of an animated boogie man potentially being restored and deciding to “get them.”

The insistent whispering is still going on, but now Even can pick up on another, softer voice that seems to be attempting to soothe the other. Rolling over as gently as he can so not to draw attention to himself, he can see Isak propped up on his elbows speaking in hushed tones with Einar, who is standing beside the bed wringing the arm of the teddy bear dangling in his grip.

“No one is going to stitch him back together. He’s gone, okay? I promise you, he is not coming to get you or any of us.”

“No!” Einar’s eyes widen at how loud his voice was, looking around the room as though someone might have overheard and is now alerted to their presence. “You don’t understand, Isak. He could be under the bed, or in the wind, or the shadow on the moon, or-”

“Hey, hey,” Isak shushes him, sitting up more fully on the bed. His pulls a borderline hysterical Einar towards him, wrapping the little boy in a hug. “It was a movie, just a movie. Oogie Boogie isn’t real, and even if he were, he would never get you,” he pulls back to brush some of the tears from Einar’s cheeks, “I would never let him.”

Einar nods pathetically, staring at his toes running along a groove in the hardwood floor. Even’s heart breaks for him. He knew watching that movie would be a bad idea and here is the justification for his thinking. He’s just about to alert them to the fact that he’s awake and let Einar crawl into the bed with them when Isak beats him to it.

“Why don’t you sleep in here with us tonight?” Isak offers. He sounds so genuine and caring that Even’s heart clenches. He just met the boy this weekend and already he sounds so head over heels for the little boy, sounds like he’s a big brother to him as well.

“I can’t,” Einar sniffles. Despite declining the offer, he moves closer to Isak and begins pulling at a string on the sleeve of his pajama shirt. “I’ll be a baby if I sleep here.”

Isak snorts but then seems to reign himself in, placing his fingers under Einar’s chin to gently bring his face up to look in his eyes. “You’re not a baby for sleeping with us. I’m sleeping in here with Even and I’m not a baby. Or am I? You don’t think I’m a baby, do you?”

Einar shakes his head. “No,” he draws the word out, “you’re not a baby.”

“Then neither are you,” Isak confirms with a decisive nod. “It’s settled. You’ll sleep in here with us and if anyone asks, we’ll say that you missed Even and wanted to be near him tonight. Worse comes to worse, we’ll say that Even was worried about Oogie Boogie and wanted extra protection while he slept.”

This brings the first real smile to Einar’s face since he woke up scared in the dark, and he wastes no time crawling over Isak’s body, squirming into the small space between Isak and Even. He hits Even in the side with his elbow, and, based on the grunt Isak releases, either kicks or hits him in the process as well.

Soon enough, he’s still. They’re all sharing the same pillow because apparently Even shifted closer to Isak in his sleep (almost spooning Isak) and Einar just flopped between them. His hair is fanned out all over the pillow, practically in both of their faces but neither make a move to change positions. As far as Even knows, the two boys aren’t even aware that he’s not still asleep.

“I miss Evy a lot,” Einar whispers to Isak in the dark.

Tears sting the backs of Even’s eyes at the declaration. Leaving Einar had been a huge factor in his decision to put off university for a gap year. It just hadn’t felt right to leave the little boy. When Even was growing up, he had Lukas to watch out for him and to play with, and he was always there until a few years ago when he went off to university himself. The age gap between them and Einar meant that he wouldn’t have that as he grew up. Even though it wasn’t in his control, Even felt guilty about it, especially after their dad walked out just a little over a year after Einar was born.

At that point, Even had become both a brother and a father-figure, a playmate and a protector. He wasn’t the best, but damn did he do everything in his power to try to be. Then he had his first episode and was diagnosed. It was dark during that time, and he was so sure that he had screwed everything up, terrified the one person that he had been working so hard to shelter to the point where he would never see him the same again. But, the night he returned home from the hospital, he woke up in the middle of the night to find a small figure curled up against him in the sheets, gripping his shirt so tightly in his little fist it was cutting off circulation to Even’s arm.

He clung to the little boy and sobbed quietly that night, silently promising that he would do better, would be better. There was someone, people, who cared about him, who needed him, and he wasn’t going to let himself be taken away from that.

Years later and after four months of living away from home, he’s still the first place that little boy goes to for comfort and protection. The thought makes his heart melt like a snowman seeing the sun for the first time.

“He misses you, too,” Isak responds, running his fingers through Einar’s hair.

“Good,” Einar hums happily. He twists around and presses into Even’s side, his nose resting in the hollow of his brother’s neck. The teddy bear he brought with him is mushed uncomfortably between them.

Groping behind him, Einar grabs Isak’s arm and pulls until Isak is pressed against his back and his arm is wrapped around both him and Even. With a sigh, Einar goes limp and starts to drop back off into sleep.

Even counts to one hundred before he risks opening his eyes, looking fondly at his brother and then moving his gaze to roam over Isak’s face. He looks calm and beautiful, still very much capable of making Even’s breath catch despite living in close proximity with him for months. If he thought he would become immune to the beauty of the angel currently lying in his bed, then he is clearly delusional. Even doesn’t think it’s possible to see Isak and not want to be with him.

Even knows that he couldn’t love anyone better than Isak, and for the first time, he’s starting to believe that maybe he won’t have to.

**

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Even looks around the room which is surprisingly empty except for him, still tangled in the sheets. The curtains are pulled back, bright light spilling into the room. It had started snowing the night before and there were still large, white flakes sprinkling through the air making everything glisten.

The muffled sound of shrieking laughter through the glass draws Even’s attention from the sky to the lawn where he is surprised to find Isak and his brothers playing in the snow, footprints littering the once blank canvas, tracing their paths around the winter wonderland. There’s a half-finished snowman in the middle of the scene, the majority of his body put together but the final head-piece is laying abandoned at the base. It seems like putting Frosty together had been traded for a snowball fight.

Isak is hiding behind the snowman, attempting to shield himself from the onslaught that the other two are ambushing him with. He looks so inviting with his nose and cheeks a ruddy pink, mittended hands packing snow into the shape of balls as quickly as he can, that Even considers it a crime against nature that he almost slept through the entirety of this magical event.

Climbing out of bed, he ignores the cold sting of the floor beneath his bare feet in favor of walking over to his closet and changing into jeans, a sweatshirt, and boots. He might have missed the beginning of this snow battle but he would be damned if he missed the end.

Rushing downstairs, he trips on the corner of the rug, bracing his hand against the wall beside the coat rack for balance. Grabbing the first thick coat his fingers come in contact with and sliding it on, Even makes his way to the backdoor in the kitchen, where his mom is currently cooking eggs and bacon in a pan and glancing out the window with a warm grin on her face that breaks into a smile when she notices Even entering the room bundled up.

“Oh, Even, sweetie, you’re up. You must have already seen the boys outside. They’ve been out there for awhile. I’m surprised you missed the ruckus Einar created practically shoving them out the door.” She laughs, shaking her head exasperatedly. “I swear that boy. Anyway, breakfast will be ready soon, but there’s still enough time that you can go out for a bit. Goodness knows that boy of yours could use some backup.”

She nods towards the window, directing Even to look out with a point of her chin. Sure enough, Isak is surrounded and almost out of ammo, three meager snowballs left to defend himself against Lukas and Einar, both holding more snowballs than they should be able to logistically carry.

“I guess I better go save him then.” He pecks his mom on the cheek quickly before bounding out the door into the cold morning air. As his feet break through the first pile of snow at the bottom of the two concrete steps, Even realizes that there’s a great deal more snow than he originally estimated there to be. His black boots are almost completely covered in the powdery substance that reaches almost to his calves, cold wetness seeping into his exposed jeans where they make contact. He doesn’t have much time to dwell on that, however, because not even a full minute after he breaks through the door, he’s met with a burst of pelting white hitting him square on the chest.

Immediately, his eyes find Isak, who’s watching him with a growing smirk and one less snowball than he had when Even first came outside. He gasps dramatically, inhaling the bitter air, and brings his hand up to rub against his chest in mock hurt and offence. “How dare you? And to think, I came out here with the purest of intentions.”

“Oh, you did, did you?” Isak questions, looking completely unbothered by Even’s little show, and that just won’t do.

“Yes, I did. Imagine my surprise when I woke up alone to find that my dashing boyfriend had answered the call of the great snow war, defending the people against terrible menaces.”

“That’s us!” Einar supplies happily, jumping up and down, tongue stuck out to catch the snowflakes still falling.

“Exactly!” Even agrees, pointing at his brothers who have stopped their attack in favor of letting this little scene play out, “So afraid was I to lose my one true love, that I rushed here to aid him in his valiant fight. But,” Even shrugs, bending down and scooping up a large handful of snow in his arms, “if you don’t need my help…”

“Even.” Isak’s voice is hard and warning. He’s dropped his own snowballs at his feet, holding his hands up and taking a small step backwards as Even takes two forward. “Even, don’t you dare throw that at me.” He stumbles slightly in his progression back, green eyes wide as he watches Even like he’s a predator approaching his prey. In a way, that’s exactly what’s happening.

“Why shouldn’t I? Am I mistaken in my thinking that you betrayed me not even five minutes ago when I walked out the door? You didn’t even give me a chance, Isak. That’s not very nice.”

“You’re right. It wasn’t nice, so let me make it up to you,” he lowers his hands as well as the register of his voice, hitching it in just the right way to send a pulse to Even’s dick with his next words, “There must be some way I can make up for my horrible mistake. I’ll do whatever you want.”

It’s tempting to give in, like really fucking tempting, and Even’s sure that if the situation were different- like in a bedroom with much less clothing- he would tell him he doesn’t need anything other than Isak to make it up to him. But, this isn’t that situation. Even acts like he’s about to drop the snow, his arms are going a little numb from holding the freezing mass for as long as he has, and eyes Isak appraisingly. “Actually, there is something that can restore the balance in this relationship.”

He inches closer to Isak and licks his lips, noting with pleasure the way Isak’s eyes track the motion. “What’s that?” he breathes out, voice cracking in his throat as his breath hitches.

“You can hold this for me,” he whispers back. When Isak furrows his brow in confusion, Even raises his arms and hurls the snow at him in a flurry of white.

It’s still for a moment, frozen like the crystals cascading down around them, sticking to Isak’s long eyelashes and the few blond curls protruding from under his hat. Isak’s staring at him in disbelief, blinking his eyes owlishly in a weak effort to keep the snow from blinding him.

An arm winds itself around Even’s shoulders and he looks beside him to see Lukas practically vibrating with excitement and pent up energy. “I think you should run, brother,” he advises, slipping away from Even with a laugh and a pat on the back.

“He’s right,” Isak cuts in, a dangerous lilt in his voice, “You should definitely run.”

His eyes bulge when he looks back to find Isak standing before him clasping a mound of snow, poised for attack. He has enough time to gasp “Fy faen” before he’s turning on his heel on the slick ground and struggling to run in the opposite direction. It’s a shockingly difficult task when your shoes are being sucked up by the ground. Other than looking pretty, snow is a pointless and unrelenting bastard.

And that’s how a simple snowball fight turns into a battle consisting of flinging snow piles at each other, the backyard resembling a blizzard with all the flakes swirling in the air. It’s also how Even ends up on his back, straddled by a wind-burnt, half-frozen Isak stuffing handfuls of snow down his shirt.

It’s bitingly cold, but Isak’s laugh paired with the crinkling of his eyes as he smiles keeps Even burning bright.

**

The thing about heat, it never lasts; it seeps from one object into another, sharing its energy until they’re both the same temperature: cold.

That’s how Even feels staring down at the phone held limply in his hand, a phone that he had thought was his when he first plucked it from the armchair that was trying to suck it down like quicksand. However, that assumption was quickly proven to be wrong by a simple swipe of the screen. Rather than checking out the ridiculous things the balloon boys were currently doing in the group chat, Even came face-to-face with the thing that siphoned every last shred of happiness and warmth that had been brewing in his chest over the past few days. The worst part is that he should have known, he really should have known.

Staring back up at him, etching itself into his retinas so that its forever seared into his brain, is a text from what can only be Isak’s boyfriend. Even doesn’t want to believe it, especially not after everything that has happened between them this weekend, the longing looks, the gentle touches, the more deliberate touches that seemed to insinuate that more was to come. They had even shared clothes more than usual, sometimes not even by accident like it was in the dorm. Isak meshed with his family so well too, in a way that no one else that Even had brought home ever had. He truly thought that when they stopped fake dating they could start real dating.

The red and white stripped dildo with a little mistletoe attached to the base begs to differ. It was sent from someone with the contact name listed as Guru, heart emojis of every color of the rainbow embracing the name on both sides. Even more incriminating are the words below the picture, Merry Christmas, baby gay! Saw this and thought it would be perfect for getting that stick out of your ass and some fucking holiday spirit into you. Literally!

This guy had bought Isak a sex toy for Christmas and called him baby, albeit in a strange way but who was Even to judge. This guy clearly had more game and confidence than he did, and- oh yeah- he was with Isak, dating him, loving him, fucking him with candy cane dildos while Even silently pinned in the background.

God, how stupid could he be? Of course, Isak didn’t want to be with him. He wasn’t sending him signals or acting on genuine feelings and impulses. He was strategizing to help   
Even sell this fake relationship to his family and, instead of selling it as well, Even had bought into it himself.

It fucking hurt to realize and it felt completely wrong, but it was probably for the best. Isak deserves to be with someone who isn’t afraid to tell him that he’s wanted, desired, loved. Even obviously can’t do that. This entire weekend is just one giant clusterfuck of proof.

No, Even obsessed and fantasized about being with Isak to the point where he told his mother they were together. Who does that? Not dildo guy, that’s for sure. He probably walked right up to Isak and asked him out without batting an eyelash. Probably told him how beautiful he was and how his eyes sparkled like the green leaves of a tree in the middle of July, the sunlight illuminating their color and almost blinding those who looked directly at it.

Now that he thinks about, this is probably why Isak was opposed to pretending to be his boyfriend, because he had one waiting for him back home. That’s why he seemed slightly resigned, why he didn’t want to kiss on the mouth, because there’s a difference between pretending to date another man and actually hooking up with one when you’re dating someone else.

Here Even’s been thinking of ways that he can profess his love to Isak while he already has a boyfriend that he neglected to tell Even about. Jesus, the only reason he must have come this weekend and went along with this harebrained scheme is because Even forced him into it. He made Isak pity him, look at him like someone who was desperate and crazy enough to lie to his own mother about shacking up with his roommate. He’s pathetic and it’s so painfully clear that tears are threating to spill from his eyes.

He puts his wrestle with self-loathing aside at the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps, tapping the home key and blacking out the screen. With a second to spare, he practically throws the phone on the coffee table and sits back stiffly in a failed attempt to look natural.

Isak comes bouncing into the room, his prince curls moving slightly with the motion. “Halla,” he chirps when his eyes land on Even. He comes over to the couch and sits beside him, smiling easily at him. “I was wondering where you ran off to after dinner,” he snuggles into Even’s side, resting his head against his shoulder, “Your mom was trying to give me a crash course in tea making. Apparently, using hot water from the tap isn’t enough to keep my man happy.”

Isak laughs, but Even doesn’t have it in him. Noticing Even’s rigid stature, Isak leans back to really look at him for the first time since entering the room. His eyebrows are furrowed, concern clouding his eyes, “What’s wrong?”

Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, Even shakes his head, “Nothing.” He tries to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Yeah, you look fine,” Isak murmurs, and despite the harshness of the words, his voice is nothing but gentle, pleading eyes searching his own, “Did something happen?”

“No,” he croaks, voice cracking.

Isak cups his cheek with a warm, slightly sweaty palm. “Ev.”

It’s too much. Jumping up abruptly, he mumbles an excuse of thinking his mom called for him and walks briskly from the room, only stopping once at the door to throw a glance over his shoulder at the boy who’s sitting on the couch looking hurt and dejected.

He wants to run back over to him, to do anything to make the smile return, but he can’t. If he goes back, he’ll just put things further in jeopardy. It’s better to hurt Isak a little now than to let him become aware of Even’s unrequited feelings, reducing their relationship to frayed shambles and hurting Isak more in the long run.

For now, he’ll just stay away from him for the remainder of the trip. It’s only the rest of this evening and tomorrow. Then, they’ll be back home where Even can start the daunting task of trying to move on from the golden boy who stole his heart.

He already knows he’s going to fail.

**

“Fuck,” Even groans, staring at his phone in distaste. His mom had called a few minutes ago to tell him a weather alert had been issued due to the snow storm that had been wreaking havoc since late last night, so she and his brothers would be staying at his aunt’s house overnight. She advised Even to drive carefully and check for road blockings and closings before he and Isak took off in the car.

Sure enough, when he opened his weather app to check the damage, he was greeted with a bright red flashing for the warning and a mounting list of streets that were being reported as closed for traffic. Almost all of them roads they needed to be able to leave and return home, thus stranding them here until the snow stopped, if not longer.

Closing the offending app, he throws his phone down the bed, watching as it bounces twice before skidding to a stop dangerously close to the foot of the bed. If it were any other time, he might be counting his blessings that it hadn’t fallen, cracking yet another phone screen. As it is right now, he can’t be assed to care. He’s going to have to tell Isak they can’t leave tonight like they had planned, which, in addition to pissing the younger boy off, entails that he talk to him, something he’s hardly done since after dinner yesterday.

In fact, he hasn’t even seen Isak since his family left for his aunt’s earlier. Lukas had insisted on giving them their couple’s gift before he left so he could watch them open it. At first, as his brother handed over the small box wrapped in shiny red paper, it had seemed like a sweet gesture; but when Even began tearing off the wrapping, he quickly realized that it was actually the opposite, drastically so.

Inside was a package containing six bottles of lube, all flavored pertaining to the Christmas season- candy cane, gingerbread, sugar cookie, holly jolly cherry, toasted nut, and even, God forbid, eggnog. “Just something I came across that made me think of you. Might come in handy, especially since you’re gonna have the house to yourselves this afternoon,” Lukas explained with an eyebrow waggle. “Go easy with it, though. I don’t have any intention of buying you a refill.”

By the time Lukas was done with his spiel and everyone had left the house in a jumble of hugs and cheek kisses, Isak’s face was beat red and Even kinda wanted to cry. It only got worse when Isak, who had long since grasped the idea that Even was avoiding him like the plague- an extremely sexy plague that Even wouldn’t mind catching- retreated into the living room without a word. Even had taken the still half-wrapped lube to his room where, after shutting the door, he shoved the box into his sock drawer.

“Fuck,” he whines again, rolling over to smoosh his face into the pillows. They smell like Isak, which isn’t very helpful. Neither is the little voice at the back of his head telling him that he can never wash these sheets again. When he’s old and living alone with his fifty cats, he can pull these blankets out and smell them, remembering what might have been.   
Maybe in another universe he doesn’t have to keep the sheets. Maybe in another universe he gets to keep Isak.

But this isn’t that universe, so after a stimulating-read pitiful- pep talk, Even rolls out of bed and heads downstairs to the deliver the news.

He doesn’t have to search too hard for Isak, though, because he’s at the bottom of the stairs pulling on his hat and preparing to walk out the front door all bundled up against the weather. “Isak?” he calls out, perplexed, “Where are you going?”

“To the tram stop. I’m going home,” he responds coldly, mechanically, without turning around, hand poised on the doorknob.

“Trams are shut down because of the storm. So are most of the roads.”

Isak whirls around at that. “Seriously? So, what, I’m just supposed to sit around and be stuck here? No, fuck that,” he snaps, “The streets might be shut to traffic but they sure as shit aren’t shut to people. I’ll walk to a hotel or something.”

Ok, ouch. Isak would rather walk out in the middle of a snow storm, risking frost bite and hypothermia than stay here with him. Talk about a stab to the heart, and the ego, and everything else in Even that’s vital and beating with life. His eyes sting with tears, prickling unpleasantly, but he won’t cry. He deserves this. Isak has every right to want to leave, to want to get as far away from Even as possible. Afterall, he’s the one who drug Isak here. The one who pushed their friendship to the limit and basically obliterated all of Isak’s boundaries. But, if Isak thinks Even’s going to let him go out in the middle of this, then he’s delusional.

“It’s practically a fucking blizzard out there, Isak,” he says reasonably. “Look, I’m sorry I asked you to come here and do this. I’m sorry that I ruined our friendship and made you uncomfortable, but I can’t let you leave in this weather. I’ll stay away from you, okay? You can have the run of the house. I’ll stay in my room. You won’t even have to see me for this rest of this-”

Isak’s scoff cuts him off. “Yeah, you’ve made that pretty God damn clear, haven’t you?” Even’s eyebrows rise to his hairline at the amount of bitterness protruding in the words, but Isak just rolls his eyes at him harshly. “If you don’t want to be with me, that’s fine. I’m a big boy. I’ve done harder things than getting over you, but don’t stand there and act like this is my fault, like I’m the one who’s pulling away here when you’ve barley looked me in the eyes since yesterday. No, this is on you.”

And, what? Isak’s mad because he’s pulling away? That doesn’t make any sense. Even thought he was supposed to be pulling away, backing off respectfully so as to not jeopardize the relationship Isak has with his boyfriend. Why would that upset him? He should be happy about that.

Which brings about the next point that has Even even more flabbergasted than the first. Isak’s done harder things than getting over him? The only way it makes sense for Isak to get over Even is if he’s under Even, and that just- that can’t be right. He worked through it all yesterday: Isak doesn’t have feelings for him, everything he’s done has been for the sake of Even’s family believing their ruse, and he’s in love with the guy who sends him sexts in the middle of the day. Right?

“I don’t-”Even swallows nervously over the lump in his throat, “I don’t understand.”

“Then that makes two of us because before yesterday I actually thought maybe you were feeling the same. Obviously, I was wrong,” Isak snaps, fierce eyes breaking their searing contact with Even’s to stare into the living room at the twinkling lights on the tree. Soft and enchanting, a sharp contrast to the conversation stabbing Even’s heart with icicle knives, making him cold all over.

He wants to believe that Isak’s saying he has feelings for him, but that contradicts everything implicated by that text as well as everything Even knows about himself.

“What about your boyfriend, though?” he implores in a soft tone.

Isak doesn’t move and Even has the horrifying feeling that he’s about to tell him something awful like they’re in an open relationship or something, which Even can’t do because if he has Isak, he wants all of Isak. It’s all or nothing, sharing just isn’t an option when it comes to the boy standing in front of him, but then Isak turns to him, confusion written all over his face. “Boyfriend? Even, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Even’s heart leaps at the admission. His brain tells it to get back in line and calm the fuck down. Just because he doesn’t have a boyfriend doesn’t change the fact that a guy bought him a sex toy for Christmas and sent him a picture of said toy. He hesitates to ask, “So… is it like a fuckbuddy situation then?”

Isak rears back in shock, staring at Even as though he’s grown another head. “What the hell are you talking about?!” He half shouts.

“The Dildo Guy!” Even cries, ears turning a light pink.

“The Who?” Isak yelps, gesturing wildly, voice going up an octave. His eyes are as wide as saucers as they stare at each other, neither fully understanding what’s going on.

Even takes a deep breath, titling his head back to blow it up at the ceiling. There’s a spider crawling around up there that Even really fucking hopes doesn’t lose its footing to fall on them. Why would a spider want to crawl on the ceiling anyway, isn’t everything just upside down causing the blood to rush to its head? Maybe spiders don’t work under those types of principles, though. Maybe Even can text Yousef later and get an answer about this mystery, one of the perks of having a friend dating a biology nerd. Of course, he could always ask Isak, but Even doesn’t think he would appreciate detouring from the important conversation they’re already invested in to talk about the nature of spiders.

He guesses right, as a moment later Isak is demanding Even’s attention be returned to him. “Even,” he calls softly, waiting for him to make eye contact- blue on green like the sky meeting the grass in the spring- before he continues, “What are you talking about?”

Face turning red and stomach knotting in embarrassment and nerves, Even lays out what’s been plaguing his mind. “Yesterday,” he starts, clearing his throat, “yesterday, I went to check my phone, but I didn’t realize that it was yours that I’d picked up.” He pauses, hoping Isak will be able to connect the dots so he doesn’t have to say it, but Isak just nods his head slightly indicating for Even to continue. “Before I realized it was yours and put it back, the message came through.”

Surely that was enough for Isak to put it together, but rather than his eyes illuminating with enlightenment, they dull with perplexity. He shakes his head minutely, almost like it’s an instinct and not a conscious decision.

“It was a picture of a Christmas themed dildo from Guru with hearts.”

Even wants to cover his face with his hands, but that’s nothing compared to Isak’s reaction. He makes a chocked sound like a wounded animal and fumbles to dig his phone from his back pocket, a task made more difficult by the mittens he’s currently wearing, which he rips off hastily to quicken his search. From where Even’s standing, he can see part of the phone screen as Isak opens his messages and scrolls to find the red-and-white-striped silicone cock. The moment Isak’s eyes land on the message, another wounded sound is ripped from his throat and his face catches flame, flush starting at his hairline and continuing down his neck where it disappears underneath his scarf.

“Oh my god,” he bemoans, “What the fuck, Eskild? This is supposed to be my Christmas gift from him? I can’t believe he did this. Or, actually, I can. Jesus, to think I got him a new house robe. It was nice too, purple silk with a Japanese flower pattern. Fucking thing even came with slippers. Unbelievable,” he laments, counting his loses over spending 500 kroner in exchange for a dildo. To be fair, the thing looked like it probably cost a bit of money.

“Hold on,” Isak pauses to look over at Even for the first time since finding the message, “You thought Eskild was my boyfriend?” He says it like it’s the most ridiculous thing, completely unfathomable.

“He sent you a dildo, Isak,” Even defends himself. “On top of that there was ‘baby gay’ and ‘Guru heart.’ That could have been weird nicknames or something. How was I supposed to know that he’s not your boyfriend?”

“I guess that makes sense,” Isak allows, mouth quirky faintly in amusement as the ridiculousness of the situation begins to register. “In my defense, though, I didn’t put his name in my phone like that. Every time I see him, he changes it to that. I finally just gave up and let him have it. As for the baby gay thing, he’s always called me that since he found me black-out drunk at some gay club back when I was still at Nissen.”

“Oh,” Even says, realization dawning on him. “Oh. That’s Eskild?” he asks, gesturing towards the phone, forgotten between them, message still displayed. Isak’s mentioned his old roommate to Even before. The guy had come into his life during one of the darkest times in Isak’s life and basically saved him from self-destructing. The name might have escaped Even’s recollection, but the gratitude he felt towards the man sure hadn’t.

“Yep,” Isak responds, popping the ‘p,’ “that’s Eskild.” He says it with a type of fondness that Even’s heard inflected in his mother’s voice when she talks about him and his brothers. It’s oddly endearing.

“So,” Even drawls out. It’s only somewhat awkward, “No boyfriend.”

“No boyfriend,” Isak repeats, moving closer into Even’s space.

“And no fuckbuddy.”

Isak shakes his head, nose almost brushing Even’s with the movement. Just a phantom of a touch but enough to spike adrenaline in Even’s blood. “No fuckbuddy.”

The breath the words are carried on breaks over Even’s lips, causing his world to shift slightly. They’re about to kiss, and this time there aren’t any pesky brothers around to interrupt them. There’s only Even and Isak, Isak and Even.

Which is probably why Isak groans in annoyance when their lips are practically touching for the first time and Even fucking pulls back to ask, “Wait. Why did you think I was avoiding you?”

“Even,” Isak whines, “Can’t this wait till later?”

“No,” Even declares, body thrumming at the possibilities of what will occur between now and later. “This can’t wait because while I know the reason I was avoiding you is because I thought you were unavailable, you didn’t know that until now. So, what did you think was happening?”

“Nothing,” Isak denies, turning bright red again. “It’s not important.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Why?”

“Because you didn’t think I wanted you.” Something about that fact doesn’t sit right with Even. There’s not a universe out there in which he can fathom an Even who doesn’t want an Isak, and it’s important to him that Isak knows this, knows this so deeply that it becomes ingrained in his brain so that when Isak thinks of himself he thinks of the way Even loves him.

“I just,” Isak stops to look down at his hands, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt that have slid past the cuffs of his coat. “I thought you’d figured out that it was me and remembered all the reasons you left that day.” He shrugs helplessly, “I mean, if you didn’t want me back then, why would you want me now?”

Despite not having a clue what he’s talking about, Even’s heart pangs at the vulnerability and uncertainty hiding behind Isak’s eyes. “What are you talking about, baby?” He watches as Isak shivers at the endearment but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge him. Slowly he slides his finger along his jaw to his chin, pulling it up gently so they’re eye to eye.   
“Back when?”

“In the bathroom,” Isak mumbles, “You said to come outside with you, but when I got out there you’d already left.”

“In the bathroom,” he repeats dumbly, voice trailing off. What did that mean? When did Even ever ask Isak to do anything with him in a bathroom? Sure, he’s fantasized about the boy plenty of times while he was in the shower, knuckles deep inside himself, hand wrapped tightly around his dick, but he can’t remember a time when Isak was ever actually in the bathroom with him. That’s something he knows he would never forget.

In fact, the only time he can think of that he asked anybody anything in a bathroom was his failed first attempt at flirting with a boy that consisted of him using all the paper towels and then offering one to the kid from the fucking trash. Not exactly his best moment, more desperate than classy. He could still remember the boy staring at him dumbfounded, brilliant green eyes sizing him up…. Brilliant green eyes like the ones he’s currently staring at.

He’s taller than he was back then and his hair is shorter but no less curly and soft-looking. If you removed some of the baby fat from the boy in the bathroom… “Holy shit, it was you.”

Even gasps, stumbling back a step in utter shock. How had he not noticed that the sweet cherub he had tried to entice all those years ago had fallen back into his life, just as sweet, alluring, and beautiful as before, if not more so now. This is like one of his favorite romance movies that Isak rolls his eyes at and claims to be cheesy. “Holy shit,” Even says again, moving back into Isak’s space and taking his hands in his own, threading their fingers together tightly. “This is like fate.”

Isak rolls his eyes, but Even can see the fondness lingering behind the action. “Did you really not put it together?” Even just shakes his head in disbelief, and the smile finally breaks free on Isak’s face. “I figured it out when your brother was teasing you about it. I mean, you look a little different now which kinda threw me off, but I thought how many people would actually do something that absurd.”

“Probably not many,” he laughs, eyes crinkling as his smile overtakes his face. He only sobers up when he remembers the events that led to this revelation. Isak thought he had left that day because he decided he didn’t want him. “I did wait for you,” he says, and Isak stops laughing to look at him with vulnerable eyes. “I waited for like 15 minutes but you didn’t come. I figured you didn’t want me, and then my mom went into labor so we had to leave for the hospital.”

Isak’s expression is soft as he squeezes Even’s fingers. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come out. At the time, I had just started questioning my sexuality. Nothing like a hot boy ambushing you in the bathroom to really kickstart things,” he laughs, “but after a mini freak-out, I came out to the bench. I was scared but there was just something about you. Always has been since the moment I saw you walk in the dorm.”

“It was like that for me too. As soon as I saw you across the room at orientation, I knew I had to meet you.”

“You saw me at orientation?”

“Yeah,” he nods, breathless.

“Wow.”

Even doesn’t think he’s ever been happier. His heart is beating fiercely and he feels like he can barely think. Without stopping to question it, he blurts out, “I love you.”

All the air leaves Isak like he’s been punched in the gut. “I love you, too,” he breathes out before surging forward and crashing his lips into Even’s like waves hitting the shore, flowing and a little messy.

Even gasps into it, trailing his hands up Isak’s arms, pushing the maroon hat from his head and threading his finger into the golden locks. Isak grips his waist, weaving his slender fingers into the belt loops on Even’s jeans, forcing their bodies closer together, hips slotting together perfectly like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. It’s borderline filthy, making up for lost time, tongues wrapping around each other, sending tingles down Even’s spine. He runs his thumb over Isak’s cheek, pulling the corner of his lips, spreading his mouth wider, allowing Even deeper access. As he’s sweeping his tongue along Isak’s teeth, Isak wraps his own tongue around Even’s, sucking on it. His hips thrust forward on instinct, seeking friction for his rapidly growing erection. He sucks in a stuttered breath and pulls back to look at Isak when he’s met with a similar hardness.

He’s flushed, eyes hooded and pupils blown. Isak looks like this because of him. Isak is currently popping a boner because of Even, because he loves Even and Even loves him. Knowing that he has the ability to affect Isak this much just from a simple make-out session sends Even’s pulse skyrocketing, thundering in his ears.

“Bed?” he questions inarticulately, all of his brain cells currently traveling to his dick.

“Yeah,” Isak nods like it’s the best thing Even could have suggested, lunging at him again to reattached their lips with a slick slide.

Slowly, they stumble down the hallway, making their way towards the stairs without disconnecting their lips, removing layers of Isak’s outerwear as they go. Picture frames are knocked off the wall as they bump into it, stopping every few steps to grind against each other, pressed against the hard surface.

Their reluctance to break apart proves to be a struggle when it comes to going up the stairs. Even makes a valiant attempt at going up backwards, tangled up in Isak, but at the landing he misses a step and falls on his ass with an oof.

Isak stumbles unsteadily but is able to catch his balance before he can topple over. Confident that he’s in the clear, he bursts into laughter at Even’s less than graceful downfall.

“That was your fault,” he huffs, righting himself in front of his boy again. “What happened to not wanting to kiss on the mouth?”

To his surprise, Isak’s blush darkens at the mention of his request to steer clear of kissing during their discussion of PDA. “I knew that if I started kissing you I wasn’t going to want to stop,” he admits with a helpless shrug.

“So, don’t,” Even smirks, sealing their mouths together again, successfully maneuvering them both safely into his room.

Even lost his shirt at some point during the trek up the steps, but Isak still has a blue plaid shirt on and Even instantly starts ripping the buttons open, pushing it hastily off his shoulders. And he thinks he’s going to cry because Isak has on another shirt underneath it, a plain white t-shirt.

He’s desperate for Isak’s skin to be on his. Isak is pushing Even’s pants and boxers down, leaving him naked while Isak is still practically dressed. It’s unfair.

Saying fuck it, he abandons the shirt in favor of unbuttoning Isak’s jeans and shoving them down his legs, where he’s met with a pair of boxers half-green half-red decorated with mistletoe. Even will definitely be upholding that tradition before the night’s over. Right now, though, he settles for ripping the material off and shoving the boy onto his bed, watching his curls shake as he bounces on the mattress.

Stalking towards the bed, he crawls up Isak’s body like a predator, slotting a leg between Isak’s and marveling at the way their cocks look side by side. Isak bumps his nose against Even’s, getting his attention focused back on his face and pulling him down to lick into his mouth again. The angle’s different, but the sensations it causes to flow through Even both physically and mentally are blissfully the same if not intensified as their hips grind together for the first time without any barriers between them.

Isak’s mouth is sinful, tongue twisting around Even’s in an obscene way that somehow still seems loving, almost like a caress from the devil. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time, his dick throbbing between them, begging to be given the same treatment his mouth is currently receiving.

However, Isak has a different idea as his fingers, which Even had barely been paying attention to wrapped in the hair at the base of his neck, begin sliding down his back. His attention becomes laser sharp at the first, feather-light touch brushing against the top of his ass. The light stroking is maddening, but it doesn’t look like Isak’s going to do anything more than tease.

That is until he gains confidence and pushes his fingers down the crack of Even’s ass, circling his fingers around his rim in a way that sends sparks shooting through Even’s entire body because- holy shit. Isak’s fingers are touching him in a way that no one else ever has. In a way that he has been fantasizing about for months, using as his own version of porn when Isak was out drinking with his boys and Even was too horny to ignore it. On those nights, Even would finger himself agonizingly slow and deep, imagining it was Isak’s fingers touching him in the most exquisite way. On those nights, Even didn’t have to cover his mouth or pretend that the noises he was making weren’t a slew of his best friend’s name being tainted by the strength of Even’s unwarranted desire. Except it wasn’t unwarranted because Isak felt the same way, evidenced in the way that he was currently trying to eat Even alive. It was almost too much, and when the gentle pressure transforms into more of a massaging against his hole, Even shudders violently. The bed slightly shaking from the force of it. He’s died and gone to Heaven.

At least he thinks he has until Isak fucking removes his fingers and pulls away from Even completely, disentangling their bodies so they’re no longer touching anywhere. Even thinks he might cry because surely this is some form of Hell. A vicious, blue-ball inducing Hell.

“I’m sorry. I thought-Are you okay?” Isak asks, eyes wide and blinking fast. Guilt and fear seem to be radiating from him as he takes in Even like he’s a wounded animal that might attack. And that’s so not okay. Even’s reaction wasn’t because he needed less of Isak. No, he needed more, so much more. Fingers knuckle deep inside his body more.

“Isak. Issy,” Even whines, desperately pulling on his shirt in a weak attempt to pull him closer. A small part of Even wonders why the fuck Isak still has a shirt on when all Even wants is to see every part of Isak, to feel his entire body flush against his own. Skin tingling against skin. “I need- Isak, please don’t stop. I need it. I need you so fucking much, please.”

If it was anybody else Even would be embarrassed about the consuming desperation coursing through his voice and body, but this was Isak who knew him like no one else, who loved him. That thought alone makes Even’s cock twitch, drawing Isak’s eyes and effectively pulling him out of his stupor.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Isak breathes as he worms his way back into Even’s space. He hadn’t gone far as he would’ve fallen off the bed, but relief still courses through Even when Isak cups his cheek, thumb rubbing against his cheekbone as he says, “I’ll take care of you. Let me take care of you like you always do for me. Okay?”

Even nods, foreheads bumping, eyes never leaving Isak’s. Before he leans in to press the softest of kisses against his lips- seriously Even’s heart stutters- there’s a flash of fire in the depths of the emerald. It’s like catching a rare glimpse of the lightning strike that starts the forest fire, turning the green into an intense burning.

The kiss quickly melts into something more intense that twists Even’s stomach in the most delicious way, and soon they’re back where they were before. Even slowly-reluctantly- pulls his mouth away with a quiet pop. Isak pouts slightly at the loss of contact and it’s just too adorable that Even has no other choice but to press three quick pecks against his   
lips.

“We need lube,” Even proclaims, nudging his nose against Isak’s.

Eyes flashing with mischief, Isak nods. “Lucky for us, we have just the thing.”

Nuzzling Even’s nose, Isak bounces off the bed and walks over to the wooden dresser in the corner of the room. He riffles through the bottom drawer, haphazardly throwing clothes onto the floor like Even’s not going to have to pick that shit up and fold it all over again later. He would be mad, really he would be, but at this angle the younger boy’s ass is on perfect display below the hem of his shirt where it has ridden up his back, and well it’s a little hard to be annoyed when presented with such a beautiful sight. Besides, Even’s gotten used to having a messy room over these past few months. It was a side effect of living with Isak, and Even wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Ha!” Isak cheers triumphantly as he turns to face Even. There’s a flash of red as he turns but Even can’t figure out for the life of him what Isak could have pulled from his drawer that made him this God damn happy. He’s practically dancing in his smugness, waving the little red box back and forth in front of him.

“So,” he drawls, “I’m thinking candy cane is probably our best bet. All the taste of Christmas without the flavor of regret that is definitely associated with the others. What do you think?”

“Oh my God, Isak!” Even laughs as he realizes what he’s talking about. Isak, bless his soul, fished the gift box of Christmas flavored lube out from where he had stuffed it when his brother gave it to them. At the time, it had seemed like a terrible gift, but in the moment Even no longer finds himself agreeing with that sentiment.

“What,” Isak smirks, crawling back onto the bed and knee-walking towards Even, “would you prefer to use a different flavor?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, “Might I suggest Toasted Nuts? Or maybe Holly Jolly Cherry?”

“I don’t care.” Even grins, staring up at Isak with stars twinkling in his cerulean blue eyes. He reaches up and runs his thumb lightly over Isak’s cheek. Seeing him so happy and carefree makes Even’s heart seize with affection and love, and he doesn’t have to hide that from him anymore. “I just want you. That’s all I need, baby.”

Even watches with delight as Isak turns pink at the use of the pet name. He pulls Isak down by the collar of his shirt, bringing their mouths together in a gentle kiss. Pecking his lips, once, twice, three times before pulling back to breathe against Isak’s lips, “There is one more thing that I might need, though.”

“What’s that, baby?”

Even’s stomach flips pleasantly at the name as well as the butterfly kisses that Isak’s pressing all over his face. God, he loves this boy.

“I need you to take your shirt off.”

“I think that can be arranged.” And it can be because in a flash of white the shirt is over Isak’s head and landing somewhere on the floor behind them. “Better?” Isak teases.

“Mm. Much.”

It doesn’t seem possible that Isak is actually sitting on his bed with him completely naked. He looks like an angel, golden curls falling into his piercing green eyes. Even’s fully expecting to wake up and be alone or for Isak to disappear if he looks at him too closely. Either way, Even will have to jerk himself off because seeing a sight like this is enough to   
fuck anyone up.

But, when Even reaches out and runs his hands over Isak’s chest, he’s met with solid, warm skin. Isak doesn’t vanish and Even doesn’t wake up. He drags his hands down his sides, rubs over his nipples, squeezes his hips after sweeping his fingers along the line of his waist, strategically avoiding brushing his cock. Isak releases a stuttered breath, and Even flicks his eyes up to meet his. “You’re so fucking hot, Isak.”

Isak laughs breathlessly. “Not nearly as hot as you, though.”

“We can’t all be me, baby,” Even responds with a wink.

He’s rewarded with an eye roll and a pinch to his hip. Then Isak’s moving so his back is leaning against the headboard, his long legs laid out in front of him. As Isak gets himself situated, Even marvels at the way the muscles in his stomach and back flex when he moves. It makes his mouth water.

“Come here.” Isak motions for Even to come over to him at the top of the bed, patting his lap until Even finally pulls his head out of his daze and begins moving towards Isak. They both moan when their cocks brush together, creating a delicious friction as Even straddles his hips and sits on his lap.

“Hei.”

“Hei,” Isak grins, and then he’s breaking the gentle moment to shove his tongue down Even’s throat.

It’s slow, intense and borderline filthy. It’s without a doubt the best that Even’s ever had and they haven’t even really started yet. Even was going to die by the end of this, and God was it going to be the best way to go.

When Even’s blood reaches the point of boiling and his body begins vibrating with so much want, he gropes around the duvet behind them in a vain attempt to find the forgotten lube. It quickly becomes clear that he’s not going to find it with his lips still attached to Isak’s, so he reluctantly breaks the kiss, telling himself it’s for the best, a little sacrifice now was going to lead to so much pleasure in the future, when he sees Isak’s little pout.

Isak’s disappointment doesn’t last long, however, as he attaches his lips to Even’s clavicle as soon as he turns his head to search for the lube. And it turns out that Isak is quite a good distraction in any form because Even finds himself unable to open the damn package while Isak’s hot mouth is sucking and licking at his skin.

“Dammit!” He exclaims after his third failed attempt at picking the tape off the edge blocking the opening. Why was this thing so well sealed? Seriously, it was lube not a fucking bank vault.

Finally sensing the distress emanating out of Even, Isak stops working on the hickey he was sucking on Even’s neck. He appraises his work for a moment with an appreciative hum, and that’s when Even sees that there’s not one but multiple love bites tracing around his collar bone like a necklace. Giving each purple-red mark a soothing lick and kiss, Isak holds out his hand for the box that hates Even and clearly doesn’t want him to get laid, which goes against the whole institution of the lube industry. Apparently, the box has the same weakness as Even, though, because it opens for Isak without any resistance, earning him a smug smirk.

An eyeroll is his only response before reaching in the box and pulling out the first bottle his fingers make contact with, praying desperately that it won’t be one of the more repulsive options. Things finally seem to be going in Even’s favor as he pulls it out, inspecting the label proclaiming the flavor to be candy cane. That doesn’t seem to be something that could easily be messed up, and if it were, he can’t really be assed to care. An awful, artificial aftertaste is a small price to pay to get Isak’s fingers were he so desperately needs them to be.

Thankfully, Isak doesn’t appear to be in a mood to tease. Ripping the cap off, he coats his fingers in the liquid, rubbing his fingers together to warm it up some, for which Even is extremely grateful. He hadn’t thought it possible to fall a little deeper in love with someone based on their lube technique, but Isak is an anomaly.

Even lifts up onto his knees to give Isak better access as his hands slide around his hips to grab his ass, kneading the cheeks with his palms, digging his fingers into the supple flesh. He spreads him open, slipping his hand between the pale globes to circle his finger lightly around Even’s rim. Even’s breath little staccato pants coming in time with the maddening circular rhythm Isak has begun, every third cricling, the tip of his finger pushes in slightly only to pull back out and start the process again.

“Isak,” he pants, hands fisting in the sheets on either side of Isak’s knees, “You need to do something. Please, I need you to- yes,” he moans as Isak finally breaches him, one slender finger sliding in slowly, twisting in a way that has Even’s eyes fluttering shut.

He slowly works him up to three fingers, fucking into Even until he’s a sweaty mess with little brain function other than the synapses lighting up with each crack of rippling pleasure making his toes curl. The only words left in his vocabulary “please” and “Isak.” If it weren’t for Isak occasionally whispering his name between bruising kisses like a revelation, he wouldn’t even be able to remember what it.

“Can you come on my fingers for me, baby? God, look so good, you have no fucking idea,” Isak babbles when Even’s out of kissing range, body arched back to better fuck himself on Isak’s fingers, hand holding onto Isak’s knee behind him, head thrown back. The words barely register, the deep rumble of his voice the only thing Even can latch onto as Isak continues to fuck into him with his fingers, hitting his prostate on every other thrust.

No one has ever done this to Even before other than himself, and the thought of all those times it was his fingers he was pretending to be Isak’s paired with the fact that Isak is currently inside of him spurs him into releasing the sheets from his death grip in favor of reaching back to his entrance, feeling Isak’s fingers slide out of his body where he’s stretched to allow the other boy in. He can feel the way his body is yielding to Isak, giving him everything he has to offer, and Even wants to feel it all.

When Isak’s fingers are about to push back into him, Even joins the motion, pushing his own finger in, feeling the heat of Isak’s fingers stroking his walls. It punches a guttural moan out of them both. Isak’s cock twitching violently in the curve where Even’s hip meets his upper thigh. Together, they continue finger fucking him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge with every stab of pleasure zapping through his body.

After a particularly deep thrust, instead of repeating the pattern they’ve established, Isak keeps his fingers in Even, massaging relentlessly against his prostate. “Isak,” he moans, prying his eyes open, trying to make them focus on his face through the lust induced haze.

Isak is a mess, hair askew, flushed a crimson red, harsh breaths panting out from kiss swollen lips, puffy and red. If Isak looks this destroyed, Even doesn’t even want to imagine how wrecked he has to look himself, hickeys littering his skin, lips abused from their earlier session of what can only be described as tongue fucking. He’s trembling in Isak’s lap, and as soon as the knuckles of Isak’s other hand brush against his cock, Even sees white. He shouts as he comes, splattering his release on both his chest and Isak’s. He clings to the other boy to keep himself grounded as the pleasure rattles through his frame, tearing him apart with its intensity.

When he comes to, he’s plastered against Isak, smearing the come between their bodies. Isak doesn’t seem bothered by it though, rubbing soothing circles into his hips while muttering loving words into Even’s ear.

Turning his head slightly, Even presses a kiss against Isak’s temple, and, once the feeling returns to his limbs, he peppers his entire face in little kisses until Isak starts laughing, pushing him back to stare into his eyes.

“That was good, yeah?” Isak inquires, and while the words themselves sound smug, the tone is unsure. Even’s struck with the thought that he doesn’t actually know how much experience Isak has.

“That was better than good,” he says, grabbing his hand, tracing patterns into his skin and bringing it up to his lips. The remnants of lube on Isak’s hand surprisingly doesn’t taste as bad as he figured it would. In fact, if Even shut his eyes and was a little drunk, he would probably believe it was the real deal. “I would say you’re the master.” For a moment,   
Even worries that Isak will think he’s mocking him, but his eyes are twinkling and he shyly bites his lip, taking the compliment for what it was- the truth.

Gazing at him like he hung the stars in the sky, Isak drags Even closer to him, licking into his mouth with a blissed-out hum. Which reminds Even that he still has something to take care of, and God does he want to.

“Your turn,” Even smiles wickedly, speaking the words against Isak’s mouth, lips catching and dragging together. “Let me make you feel good.”

“You always make me feel good,” he admits shyly as he moves down the bed, resting against the pillows, Even hovering on top of him.

“Then I’m going to make you feel fucking exquisite, baby doll,” he breathes fiercely before swooping down and devouring Isak, jaw popping slightly with the extent he’s opening his mouth.

Isak whimpers when Even rolls his hips, grinding against his dick to give him some relieving friction.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Even questions with an eyebrow raise. “Any idea how much I want you, all of you, everything?” Isak squirms beneath him as he slowly starts sliding down his body, pressing scorching kisses on every available piece of skin within his reach, occasionally sucking dark red marks along his rapidly expanding ribcage. “God, you drive me crazy, walking around the dorm in your boxers, watching the way they hug your hips and cup your ass. That should have been my hands, not some flimsy piece of cotton. And, when you get done showering, that towel flung so loosely around your hips,” he shuts his eyes, exhaling harshly through his nose. “I wanted you,” he says, words searing into Isak’s skin the same way his eyes are burning into his, green almost indistinguishable his pupils are blown so wide.

Isak looks awestruck, but he shakes himself out of it to bring a shaky hand to Even’s hair, quiff completely destroyed due to the number of times Isak’s disheveled it. If tugging on his hair turns out to be a kink for Isak, it’s one Even’s happy to oblige.

“You have me,” he states simply like it’s a fact of the universe, eyes so soft that Even’s eyes sting. “I’m yours, baby.”

Even’s eyes crinkle in a heart wrenchingly happy smile. “I’m yours too,” he punctuates with a kiss to his hipbone, “I’ve always been yours.” Reaching for his hand that’s clenched in the sheets, Even tangles their fingers together tightly, giving his hand a loving, grounding squeeze before swallowing down Isak’s cock.

“Holy fuck, Even,” he gasps, pulling his hair and crushing his hand as his fingers spasm at the sudden onslaught of tight, wet heat.

The noises Isak makes as Even works his dick are beautiful. Even wants to record them so he can listen to him on repeat. He moans obscenely when Even traces along the thick, blue vein with his tongue, swirling it around his throbbing member on every downstroke, nearly chocking as the tip hits the back of his throat. His eyes water slightly, but he doesn’t break eye contact. Even’s been told before that he has lips made for sucking cock and if the mesmerized way Isak’s watching him is anything to go by- eyes flicking back and forth between piercing blue and puffy red like he can’t decide which is a prettier sight- Isak agrees with that sentiment.

He digs his tongue in the slit, lapping at the precome leaking steadily at the tip, earning himself a particularly high pitched whine for his efforts. Even sucks Isak’s cock like he was made for it, devouring him like he’s sucking on a lollipop, and that’s when an idea strikes him. He wants to taste Isak everywhere, consume him entirely.

Popping off his cock, a string of saliva still connecting it to his lips, Even kisses down his shaft, licking at his balls. He hitches his legs over his shoulders and spreads Isak’s cheeks to lick a long stripe from his balls down the line of his ass crack and over his hole, delighting in the way Isak’s hips arc off the bed as he lets out a wanton moan.

Positioning his lips over the puckered hole, Even sucks on the rim before wiggling his tongue inside, feeling Isak flutter around his tongue. He alternates between caressing licks and punctuated stabs inside with a pointed tongue.

Even’s almost as much of a mess as Isak is, and if he hadn’t just come his brains out through his dick he would definitely be getting hard again. As it is, his cock makes a valiant attempt at getting involved, especially when he takes note of just how debauched Isak looks. It feels like looking into the sun, his eyes graced with the most enticing beauty he’s ever seen. He wants to take a picture of him like this so he can frame it in every museum to show people what a true masterpiece looks like. However, the majority of him never wants anyone else to see this, basks in the knowledge that this is all his from now on, that he’s the one who gets to make Isak fall apart.

And he does just that as he pumps a finger into him alongside his tongue, licking around the hot flesh, spreading saliva everywhere messily. Even works him through it as he tumbles over the edge. He holds onto Isak’s hand, a bungee cord ensuring that he doesn’t hit the ground but bounces back to his boy.

Even crawls back up his overheated body, leaving light kisses in his wake. Isak’s eyes are blinking open drowsily, smiling dopily at Even as he brushes the sweaty curls off of his forehead.

“Good job,” Isak praises, patting his chest as he takes heaving breaths.

“Yeah?” Even teases. “Did I get the position? Do I get to be your boyfriend now?”

Isak nods, breaking into a blinding smiling. He tilts his chin up in a silent request for a kiss that Even grants willingly, kissing him leisurely for what might be minutes or hours.

“We should probably get cleaned up,” Even mumbles, taking in the mess on the sheets and their bodies.

“Uh,” Isak grunts, rolling over to press his face in the pillows, “don’t wanna get up.”

“I know,” Even kisses his shoulder, “but we have to, baby. Come on,” he urges, when there’s no response, “We can shower together. I’ll even wash your hair for you.”

Isak peeks at him, deliberating whether the offer is worth it. Apparently, it is because he sighs and pushes himself up on his elbows. “Fine,” he grouses, then turns a stern eye on Even, “You’re also gonna cuddle me when we get back.”

“Like that was ever not going to happen,” Even replies with an eyeroll. He’s never passed up an opportunity to cuddle with this boy before and he sure as hell isn’t going to start now, especially since he can be as openly affectionate and sappy as he wants.

Grabbing Isak’s hand, he leads them both down the hallway to the bathroom on shaky legs. Isak sits on the toilet lid while Even fiddles with the handles, adjusting the water temperature. When he deems it warm enough without be scalding hot, he steps into the tub and holds out his hand for Isak to take, pulling the curtain shut once he’s joined him in the steam.

Half an hour and two orgasms later, they’re nested in Even’s bed, wrapped around each other, Isak’s head resting on his chest. By an unspoken agreement, they put each other’s hoodies on before they changed the sheets and crawled under the fresh covers.

The clock on his dresser is displaying in glowing red numbers that it’s officially Christmas day.

“Merry Christmas, Even,” Isak whispers, close to falling asleep. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he breathes quietly, gently bumping his nose against Isak’s.

The last thing that crosses his mind before he succumbs to sleep, safe in the knowledge that Isak will still be here in the morning with love shining in his eyes, is that maybe some stupid ideas aren’t that absurd afterall.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr if you want, @misspanicdead


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